Moonlight Legend
by The Immaterial Girl
Summary: After the death of oil magnate Donald Chambers, the crime scene investigators at the Miami Dade Crime Lab has a mess on their hands. Horatio Caine finds himself at odds with Jessica Thomas, Donald's surrogate niece. Now into Part II.
1. One Lone Hair and the Lady in Red

**PART ONE**

**Looking, Lighting, Linking**

_No man knows till he has suffered from the night how sweet and dear to his heart and eye the morning can be. _

--Bram Stoker

_Night, the mother of fear and mystery, was coming upon me._

--H.G. Wells

**CHAPTER ONE**

The large house under the clear sky at 110 Dupont Avenue stood in austere, eerie silence that indicated the presence of death. When Lieutenant Horatio Caine arrived at the scene, he exhaled and observed the exterior scene a moment before taking off his signature sunglasses. And wondered what he was going to find.

It was another sunny Florida day, complete with warm breeze, blue sky, and humidity. Patrol officers secured the scene, standing at the front door, fending off nosy neighbors. Detective Frank Tripp was talking to the one standing at the front door, frowning thoughtfully every few seconds. He raised his gaze to Horatio's and ended his exchange with the patrol officer. Tripp strode over with the pad flipped open to a new page.

"Morning, Lieutenant," Tripp greeted him.

Horatio gave him a nod before greeting him back. "Good morning, Detective. What has gotten us out of bed on this fine morning?"

Tripp glanced at the pad. "The vic is a man by the name of Donald Chambers."

Horatio considered this and started walking toward the house with Tripp in tow. "That name is vaguely familiar."

"Yeah, the vic owns Chambers Oil. Well, used to own. He moved to Miami a few months ago. No evidence of a wife or girlfriend, but I do remember hearing his first wife died some years ago. Rumors were that he was planning to retire here and let his only son take the reins. Could be the son wanted them early."

"The evidence will tell its own story," Horatio remarked diplomatically. He and Tripp stepped over the threshold and into the house.

"A woman by the name of Charlene Daniels discovered the DB around seven fifteen," Tripp continued. "She's with one of the police officers right now. I think she's stopped shaking like a leaf by now."

"I'll want to talk to her," Horatio told him. "But for now, I want to get a good look at this crime scene."

While he put on his latex gloves, Horatio took a lingering look around. To his left was the living room. While it wasn't dirty, it showed signs of clutter: throw pillows thrown askew, rugs slightly wrinkled, crumpled napkins littered here and there. To his right was the disorderly kitchen. Two champagne flutes and a bottle of Korbel sat out in his line of vision. Another one of them was broken on the floor below. Horatio stepped gingerly in the kitchen and found Eric Delko testing a glass for traces of blood with a camera at his elbow.

"Morning, Eric," Horatio said to his investigator. "What do we have here?"

"It seems that Chambers had some guests last night," Eric responded. "Maybe one of them murdered him." He placed the flute in a plastic evidence bag for safe-keeping when no blood surfaced. "Calleigh and Alex are upstairs with the body. Bedroom, second door on the left."

Horatio nodded, but found that his gaze drifted to the broken glass. He leaned down and knelt next to it. In the light from the sun, he could see traces of lipstick…and a faint tinge of red on one small shard. He took a pair of tweezers from his kit and carefully extracted the tainted piece. A second later, it was confirmed: blood. Human blood.

"We've got lipstick," Horatio announced. "And blood."

The contents went into a small manila envelope, which was sealed with evidence tape and properly labeled. Horatio straightened and lifted the envelope for Eric's recognition. He smiled to himself and shook his head. It was simply Horatio. He was used to it at this point.

Horatio ventured upstairs, guided by the sound of a shutter opening and closing. Indeed, the second door on the left was wide open. When he looked inside the room, he found Doctor Alexx Woods leaning over the bed, giving the exalted Donald Chambers his final examination. Calleigh Duquesne stepped gingerly around the room, taking pictures of the broken lamp and the eminent blood spatter. Alexx glanced at him when he walked in, but Calleigh remained fixated on her photography.

"Morning, Horatio," Alexx murmured as she pulled the two sides of Donald's shirt open to view his chest. She winced when she caught a glimpse of the bruising on Donald's chest. "Looks like our vic got pummeled. This appears to be premortem bruising. The shape of the bruises almost appears like he was hit repeatedly with the handle of a gun."

Calleigh came over with her camera and took a picture of the wall above the bed. There was a bullet lodged in the plaster.

"I'm assuming you're going to tell me that the gunshot wound to the head went was through and through," Horatio guessed, gauging the height the bullet was from the floor.

"Right you are," Alexx confirmed. "And there's a muzzle stamp from the gun. This shot was taken at a close range. His body temp tells me he's been dead close to three hours."

Horatio glanced down at his watch. It was close to ten. That put time of death around seven a.m. He put that in his mind to ask Ms. Daniels where she was around the time of death.

When Calleigh dislodged the bullet from the wall, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she tried to figure out the caliber of the gun it came from.

"What do we have, Calleigh?" Horatio inquired.

"A bullet from three fifty-seven Magnum," Calleigh replied. She placed the bullet in a small manila envelope. "I'll run it when I get back to the lab to see if it matches anything already in the system."

"Do that, and keep me posted. I need to talk to the young woman who called this in." He excused himself as Eric came into the room with his kit and hands gloved. Calleigh put the small envelope in a box with the rest of her evidence and moved, again, gingerly across the room. She picked up a Luma-Lite from her kit and went to the other side of the bed. Eric began to dust for prints.

"The body hasn't been moved," Alexx noted. "He fell right here onto the bed after being shot."

"And it looks like he was shot in front of the bed, from the position of the bullet," Calleigh added. She leaned down closer to the bed and examined the sheet.

Eric shook his head as he dusted the surface. "I know it's getting clichéd to say, but this sort of thing never makes sense to me. Why would someone do this?"

Calleigh straightened and held up a long black hair to the sunlight with the pair of tweezers. "Well, maybe this will tell us."

Eric stepped over blood splatter and came to her side. "That'll do nicely with the fingerprints I just found here on the desk here."

"So either our perp is careless," Calleigh began.

"Or these don't belong to the assailant," Eric finished.

Calleigh carefully placed the hair in another envelope and labeled it. "Whatever the case, it gives us a good start."

Horatio's first impression of Charlene Daniels had been correct. She was a petite brunette with long hair and a perfect manicure. And she wore red. Somewhere Horatio had heard a saying about girls who like to wear red, but he couldn't remember it.

They stood outside the house, near a patrol car. Charlene looked stricken, hugging herself with the fervor of someone who couldn't quite get warm. She kept glancing at the house nervously but didn't seem to find what she was looking for.

"Ms. Daniels," Horatio began, "I understand you were Mr. Chambers' personal assistant." The young woman nodded. "How long have you known Mr. Chambers?"

"For a long time," Charlene replied. "We both used to live in New York several years ago. He had come with his son to Audbone Heights when we were kids. I was down on my luck a few months ago and he needed a personal assistant so he hired me."

"Where were you around seven this morning?"

"At my house," she told him. "I usually sleep until eight. I leave the house for work at eight-forty five."

Horatio nodded. Not a solid alibi without someone else present. "Was there anyone with you?"

When she blushed, he figured the answer was yes. Her reply: "A friend of mine spent the night."

"I understand, Ms. Daniels. Do you usually come to his house like this in the mornings?"

"Sometimes," Charlene admitted. "I would usually wait for him at the office, but I've been wanting to keep an eye on him lately. He's been stressed over personal matters for a while and I didn't want anything to happen to him like a heart attack or something."

Horatio got a little warning blip--slight one, but one nonetheless. "What kind of personal matters was he going through?"

Charlene sighed heavily. "Well, if you must know, he was being bothered by some stone-cold bitch. Her name is Jessica Thomas. You'll know it's her when you see men groveling on their knees in her wake to save their genitalia."

"An apt description," Horatio murmured mildly. "Do you know anything about the business between Mr. Chambers and this Jessica Thomas?"

"Not much. All I heard was that she kept calling him, pestering him for information on something, but he wouldn't give it. His son is good friends with her so it bothered him."

"Okay." Horatio considered this. And put Jessica Thomas on his short list. "Was there anything else bothering him?" Charlene answered in the negative. "Well, if you remember anything, here is my card." He extracted one from his pocket and gave it to her. "You call me."

Charlene nodded tremulously and walked away. A car had pulled up across the street, a car Horatio didn't recognize. Charlene walked into the arms of a short guy with dark hair. Horatio dimly wondered, as he heard snatches of their exchange, if that had been the person she spent the night with. It was one of those things he filed away for future use. Well, if he came to need it.


	2. Not the Time for Underwear Jokes

**CHAPTER TWO**

_From the file_

**Full Name:** Daniella Elizabeth Melissa Thomas

**Age:** 27

**Date of Birth:** September 2

**Place of Birth:** Manhattan, New York

**Place of Residence:** Gracia, California

**Hair:** Black

**Eyes:** Violet

**Height:** 6'1"

**Weight:** 143

**Siblings:** Jessica Kathleen Robyn Thomas, 31; Eric Ashton David Thomas, 29;

Claudia-Michelle Ellen Thomas-Merrell, 27; Moira-Selene Eleanor Thomas, 27;

Gretchen Ashleigh Amanda Thomas, 27; Angelica Wolfe, 6; Angelique Wolfe 6;

Angela Wolfe, 6; Evangelina Wolfe, 22 mos.

**Parents:** Irene Margaret Thomas Bullock Wolfe, mother; Robert Bullock, father,

deceased; David Wolfe, stepfather

**Child(ren):** Shannon Marianne, 10; Abigail Josephine, 10

**Occupation:** Former model; performer, music producer

**Education:** High-school diploma from Audbone Heights High School;

B.S. in Mathematics from Audbone Heights University

Ryan Wolfe strode out of DNA several minutes later and nearly ran into Eric walking down the hall.

He hadn't been able to be on the scene at Donald Chambers' house that morning because of a faulty alarm clock and some lab work from another ongoing case, but he figured he could make up for it by processing the evidence they did get. It took some of the guilt off for running late.

"Oh hey," Ryan said as he fell into stride with Eric. "I'm on the way to an interrogation room."

"What's in the file folder?" Eric inquired. "Did we find a match to the hair or the fingerprint found at the scene?"

"Fingerprint was a match to one Daniella Thomas." Ryan passed Eric the folder. Eric raised an eyebrow at the photo in the photo and gave a low whistle. "Her prints were in the system."

"It says here that her record's clean," Eric commented as he quickly skimmed. "She's a former model and now sings and produces for a living. I wonder what possessed a woman with this much bank to kill Donald Chambers."

"And that's the reason why we bring suspects in for questioning," Ryan answered. "To answer that very question."

Eric opened his mouth to make a statement, but something stopped him in his tracks. Or rather, someone.

She was tall, at least over six feet. She had long black hair pulled back into a ponytail. A lilac tee and blue jeans added to her air of casual confidence. She didn't smile or glare when she stopped in front of the two men nearly gaping at her. She looked at them one at a time, then frowned.

"Which one of you is Ryan Wolfe?" she asked.

Ryan raised a hand. "I am. I assume you're Daniella Thomas."

"That's what it says on my underwear," she retorted with a tight smile.

"I didn't ask about your underwear, Ms. Thomas," Ryan said.

Danie drew up a bit. Not that she needed to be any taller. "Good. I don't show my underwear to strange men. It's like asking for trouble." When Ryan and Eric only stared at her, she let a small smile escape. "No sense of humor, I see." She nodded, somber. "Alright, I understand. Could we commence with the interview?"

Ryan gestured to an interrogation room nearby. As Danie walked toward it, Ryan frowned at Eric behind Danie's back. Eric shrugged and followed him inside. Ryan was so perplexed by Danie's behavior that he didn't shoo Eric away from the interview.

Ryan and Danie took seats facing each other at the table. Eric remained standing, and leaned on the wall.

"So do I have to guess why I'm here or are you going to tell me?" Danie asked, peering at Ryan.

Ryan deliberately paused before speaking. He took a moment to stare at her. He hoped that might intimidate her, but she just stared back, the gleam in those violet eyes becoming insolent.

"Where were you around seven a.m. this morning, Ms. Thomas?" Ryan inquired.

"I was with my older sister Jessica," Danie responded. "We had breakfast this morning in her office where we talked about numerous mundane things before she had to go off to a meeting." She tilted her head slightly and raised an eyebrow. "I assume there is some important reason why you had me come down or I wouldn't be here."

Ryan paused again before his next statement. "Donald Chambers was found dead at his house this morning." He and Eric witnessed Danie's olive-complected face go ashen. "We found evidence of your being at the crime scene."

Danie closed her eyes and pursed her lips together as if to gain her composure. When she opened her eyes and spoke again, her voice was a little shaky. "I was at Donald's house," she revealed. Ryan started to speak, but she pointedly added, "Last night. Donald had invited me, and my mom, and his son Matt…" Suddenly she trailed off, and the first tears broke loose. "Oh Matt! He's…"

"Will be notified," Ryan finished. "So tell us about the gathering you had last night. Was there any drinking? Any fighting?"

Danie shook her head. "We were having such a good time. Mom and Donald hadn't spoken in so long, and they were reminiscing about when we were younger." A ghost of a smile crept up on her face as she fell into memories. "There was a little drinking, I'll admit to that. Matt tends to over-drink sometimes, so we rode in the came car. I had to take him home early this morning. It was about…two a.m."

"Did you enter Donald Chambers' room at any time?" Ryan asked.

Danie nodded this time. "When Mom and I were helping him to bed. I know that sounds suspicious, but Donald was a bit tipsy, and Mom and I had to help him to his own bed."

"Did your hair get caught on anything?"

Danie frowned, thinking about the night before. "Well…when we were helping Donald onto the bed, my hair got caught under him. I just pulled it instead of moving him." She shook her head as despair descended upon her again. "If I had known…" She swallowed. "I got Matt home around two-thirty. I got home about fifteen minutes later and went straight to bed." She inhaled and waited for Ryan to ask her another question. When he didn't, she said quietly, looking at her hands before her on the table, "Donald didn't have many people who hated him, but I'm not the person to ask about that sort of thing. Matt would know better." She looked up at Ryan. "I presume I can't talk to him until he's been interviewed. But when you do tell him…this, be gentle."

Surprised by Danie's depth and loyalty, Ryan just nodded before saying, "We'll do what we can." He opened up the folder and looked at her dossier. He remembered what Horatio had said Charlene Daniels had told him and formed his next question. "How well do you know Charlene Daniels? She was Mr. Chambers' personal assistant."

Color rose in Danie's cheeks again and her eyes went dark. "I know of her. We used to be friends in college but we…grew apart."

Interesting. "She mentioned that Mr. Chambers and your older sister Jessica weren't getting along. Is that true?"

"It depends on your definition of 'getting along,'" Danie replied. "Jessica was researching something important and he had information what was pertinent to her investigation. He wouldn't give it to her, no matter how she begged or pleaded."

"Or demanded at gunpoint," Ryan supplied.

Danie let out a sardonic chuckle. "Jessica bullying Donald? She's not a fool. Besides, he's like an uncle to her. They probably disagreed, got mad at each other, and made up. Life's too short to hold grudges against loved ones."

"Indeed," Ryan agreed, "but sometimes we get angry enough to kill."

"Jessica was with me this morning," Danie responded. "So she couldn't have done it."

"Would she have hired someone?"

Danie's eyes flashed. "My big sister is the type of person who would do things herself. And she wouldn't have let the animosity go that far with Donald. It wasn't all that important to kill over."

"We'll see about that." Ryan revealed a swab. "Before you go, we need a sample of your DNA."

Danie didn't protest and allowed Ryan to swab the inside of her mouth.

"You're free to go, Ms. Thomas. But stay close. We may have more questions."

Danie again said nothing, just solemnly left the room.

Ryan drummed his fingertips on the table top, and Eric straightened and occupied Danie's former seat.

"So what do you think?" Ryan asked.

"I think her grief was genuine," Eric replied. "So far, the evidence is consistent with the story she gave. The prints on the scene indicate that maybe she braced herself from falling while helping Chambers to his bed. But it could go the other way."

Ryan nodded, considering. "But there has to be something there at the crime scene. Whoever killed Donald Chambers must have left some hair, a print, blood--something."

"Whoever it was left something. And we'll find it." Eric stood. "Now we have to go find Danie's sister."

In the privacy of her own car, Danie opened up her cell phone and made a phone call.

It took two annoying minutes of a simpering secretary and ire-raising elevator music before she was on the phone with the person she needed.

Skipping hello, Danie said, "You and I need to talk. Soon."

"Why? What's going on, Danie?"

"You'll find out soon enough." She glanced around then started her Chrysler Sebring convertible. "Make some time for me tonight. I'm canceling my trip to New York. Family comes first."

Danie could all but hear the frown. "Daniella Elizabeth…what the hell is going on?"

"We'll talk later," Danie responded. "And maybe then you'll have something to tell me." She left the conversation on that note and hung up. She hated doing it, but in a time where things were so unstable, it seemed fitting.


	3. Meeting Matt Chambers

**CHAPTER THREE**

Upon hearing the name Jessica Thomas come up in the conversation he had just had with Ryan, Horatio had a vague sense of déjà vu. It reminded him of his time on the streets of New York, the bustling city with eternal insomnia and virulent crime. And then he remembered a case one of his colleagues had dealing with a teenage rape victim; she had only been thirteen when she was brutally raped and attacked. But the young Jessica Thomas wouldn't be the victim for long; her type, the intelligent, reasonable, insolent type, would heal and come back stronger than ever.

As he and Calleigh rode to their destination, he tried to remember anything else about that young woman. But his mind only came up with fuzzy recollections. He and Calleigh made small talk about the case. About the person they were about to go and see.

Ryan Matthew Chambers was not a tall man, but that didn't take away from his allure. He was the proverbial nice guy, armed with a disarming smile and a how-may-I-help-you demeanor. His brown eyes crinkled with eternal mirth, even when he wasn't smiling. They couldn't tell how long his dark hair was under the baseball cap he wore as he watered his precious garden.

Calleigh and Horatio both wondered what he was hiding.

Upon seeing them led by his housekeeper, Matt, as he was called, paused and let the water stream out onto the stone walkway that led to the house. Confusion bloomed on his face but he recovered and offered them a smile. The housekeeper ventured back into the house, citing that she had cookies to finish. Matt laughed and told her to save her some. Then he turned to Horatio and Calleigh.

"Hello, officers," Matt greeted them. "How may I help you this morning?"

Calleigh and Horatio shared a glance before Horatio spoke. "I am Lieutenant Horatio Caine, and this is Calleigh Duquesne. We work for the Miami-Dade Crime Lab."

The mirth came out of his eyes as realization dawned. "The Crime Lab? What…?"

"It's your father," Calleigh said. "He was found dead this morning at his house."

Blank shock descended upon Matt's face. "My father? Dead?" He shook his head and dropped the hose. "He can't be dead. I just saw him last night—"

"It was him," Calleigh told him. "His personal assistant confirmed his identity on scene."

Matt averted his eyes from them and wandered a few steps. He stood for a moment, and Horatio was sure he was crying, or trying his hardest not to. A few long moments passed, and Calleigh and Horatio came closer to him. Feeling their presence, he straightened a bit.

"How did it happen?" Matt wanted to know.

"That isn't important," Calleigh said briskly. "What is important is that you—"

"I want to know," Matt said, and turned to look at Calleigh. His brown eyes were red and watery. "How did my father die?"

Calleigh shared a glance with Horatio, who gave a short nod. "He was killed by a bullet to the head, Mr. Chambers." After a short pause, Calleigh asked, "Where were you this morning around seven a.m.?"

"I was here," Matt replied without pausing to express his outrage. "I…I had a hangover from last night. My father invited me, Danie Thomas, and her mother over for drinks. Dad said he wanted to talk to Irene—that's Danie's mother—but he never told me why." That statement made him pause thoughtfully for a while. "I can't remember if Dad pulled Irene aside or not. He joked with Danie a lot, teasing her about not being married yet. It's really a big blur around eleven. I remember more drinking and laughter, then Danie and Irene helped Dad to bed. Danie took me home and she had to help me up the stairs. I passed out at a quarter to three and I woke up around nine thirty with Mrs. Johnson standing over me and giving me a lecture. She hauled me out of bed and I came out here. Been here ever since."

"Mr. Chambers," Horatio began, "do you know if your father had any enemies? Anyone who would wish him harm?"

Matt shook his head absently, like a man who looked like he had stepped into the Twilight Zone. "The only person I can think that would possibly want to hurt Dad would be Chance Copeland. He used to be Dad's second-in-command before he resigned seven months ago. He's an alright enough guy, but he and Dad had their share of disagreements."

"Do you think Chance Copeland would kill your father?" Horatio asked.

Matt shook his head again. "I don't know. I've only met Chance a few times, here and there. Dad's been taking care of things here in the South while I took care of the offices in California. I just recently came to Miami. I…I wish I did know for sure…" His eyes darkened. "And if he did kill my father…"

"I don't think you should try and take justice into your own hands," Calleigh advised. "If it turns out that Chance Copeland had something to do with this, then we'll take care of it."

A clamor came from the house, making Horatio and Calleigh turn. Mrs. Johnson was yelling, and a woman's voice informed her that she would take care of things. _Take care of what?_

Calleigh's head whipped around to Matt. "Who is that?" she demanded.

Matt listened to the voice, then his eyes went wide with surprise. "Irene...?"

She was slightly taller than Matt with piercing blue eyes that were watery and long black hair. Horatio gauged her to be over forty, but she looked quite young and vibrant for her age. Though, the life in her cheeks was probably from anger more than anything.

She came to the scene and stopped a mere foot from Horatio and Calleigh. Horatio saw the resemblance to Daniella Thomas and guessed who it was.

"Irene Thomas-Wolfe, I presume," Horatio remarked.

"Lieutenant, I think this interview is over for the moment," she said tersely. Horatio wasn't surprised that she already knew who he was.

"I will end the interview when I see fit, Mrs. Wolfe," Horatio said mildly.

Irene raised an eyebrow. "That's _Counselor_ Wolfe to you, Lieutenant."

Matt frowned at the sparks flying between Horatio and Irene. "Irene, it's okay. He was just asking some questions about Dad. He wasn't badgering me."

Irene gave Horatio a look as she moved to Matt's side. "I'll be the judge of that."

Horatio moved forward slightly. He didn't want to resort to threatening, but Mrs. Wolfe made it very easy so slide into the frame of mind. "You know what? I am glad you came, Mrs. Wolfe, because I have a question for you. Where were you at seven this morning?"

"I was at my office," Irene responded. "I had to prepare for a briefing. Now. If that's all you have, I'm sure Mrs. Johnson can see you out."

"Thank you, Counselor," Horatio said, leading Calleigh out. Mrs. Johnson gave them a sympathetic look and muttered about that "damned overprotective woman." As Horatio and Calleigh left, Horatio stopped Mrs. Johnson on the porch, a question in his mind.

"Mrs. Johnson," Horatio started, "what do you know about Mrs. Wolfe?"

"Well, I know that she treats that boy in there like he's one of her own. Can't say that I blame her, though, after Donald's wife passed when Matt was so little. But she's like a lioness, I'll tell ya. She'll do anything to protect that boy. I can't imagine how she feels for her own kids. I like the eldest. Jessica, I think her name is. She's here all the time with the tall one. What's her name…? Oh, I remember—Daniella. Mrs. Wolfe's protective of them, too. That's probably because of what happened with the girls' daddy. I don't know much but apparently Mrs. Wolfe divorced him and ended up marrying again."

"Do you think Matt would murder his own father, Mrs. Johnson?" Calleigh asked gently.

Mrs. Johnson gave a loud cackle. "That boy wouldn't lay a hand on his father even if someone had a gun to his head." But then her face darkened. "But I know someone who might." She gestured for him to come closer. "Matt doesn't know about this, so this's between you, and me, and the Lord up on high."

Horatio's mouth twitched at Mrs. Johnson's secretive tone. "Do tell, Mrs. Johnson."

"Mary Andrews," she said, with apparent anger. "That money-grubbing woman has dollar signs in her eyes, I'll tell ya. She set her sights on Donald and wouldn't let go. Finally Donald went out on a few dates with her to shut her up. He brought her here and the little witch had the nerve to put down my pecan shortbread cookies. I almost lost my religion that day." She gave a long sigh. "But they just broke up a few days ago. It's been nothing but trouble for him. Not that I blame him, though, for all the hell she put him through."

"Why did they break it off?" Calleigh wanted to know. "Did Donald see the error of his ways?"

Mrs. Johnson shrugged. "Or something like that. He didn't say. I asked about that woman and he said that we wouldn't be seeing her again. So you look her up, and make sure she don't come 'round here trying to hurt Matt. I'll have to hit her upside her Botox-injected face with my rolling pin."

Calleigh couldn't conceal the laugh before it bubbled out. "Thank you, Mrs. Johnson."

Horatio reached into a pocket and pulled out a card. "If you need anything—_anything_—you call me."

"Will do, Lieutenant Caine. Just let me know if you want some of those shortbread cookies."

Horatio laughed and fell into stride with Calleigh, who was smiling.

"I love people like that," Calleigh remarked. "She seems so happy working for Matt, and he adores her."

"Unlike Irene Wolfe?"

Calleigh's color rose and her smile disappeared. "I can't believe she would just barge in like that and throw her weight around."

"She's a lawyer," Horatio reminded her. "It's what they do." But he also had the feeling that Irene's protectiveness over Matt was a side effect of his parental circumstances. One could see that Irene was definitely his surrogate mother. Horatio put that little tidbit away in his head for later.

"So where to now?"

"Back to the lab so we can see how Alexx is progressing with Donald Chambers' autopsy. Then we have to confirm Daniella Thomas' story about being with her sister."

"What about Mary Andrews?"

"I'll send you and Ryan to talk to her," Horatio said. He put on his sunglasses. "But I want to speak to Jessica Thomas myself."


	4. Introducing the Insufferable Ms Andrews

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Horatio found Alexx standing above the deceased Donald Chambers.

"Hello, Horatio," Alexx greeted him.

"Hello, Alexx." Horatio eyed Donald Chambers on the examination table. "What profound things has Mr. Chambers here told you about his death?"

"Other than the fact that it wasn't his time?" Alexx, hands protected by gloves, tapped the head wound with her index finger. "There's not anything new I can tell you about his cause of death. A bullet to the head, through and through. His tox screen revealed nothing that wasn't already obvious." She added, with that same index finger up, "But I did find something interesting when I did a full body examination." Alexx gestured to a spot on Donald's chest. There was a weird-looking bruise.

"What is this?" Horatio asked.

"It's an impression of some kind," Alexx explained. She shifted a bit to turn to a camera. She zoomed in closely to get a good picture and snapped.

"What do you think made that bruise?" Horatio wanted to know. He squinted at the bruise. It would have been normal if it hadn't been for the four dots in the middle of it. "Those indentions may be from a ring."

"It makes sense. The impression left behind can't belong to anything too big." Alexx looked thoughtfully down at Donald. "It seems the killer left something behind after all."

"Their mistake," Horatio murmured, thinking of hands and the things the people he had interviewed so far wore on them. "Thank you, Alexx."

Alexx accepted his gratitude and Horatio left.

After he was done talking with Alexx, Horatio ventured to see someone else of great interest to him.

"Ms. Valera," Horatio said in greeting to the brown-haired DNA technician. "Did you get anything off of those shards of glass I asked you to process?"

Maxine Valera, with her usual efficiency, turned to a file and handed it to him. He opened it while she gave her explanation.

"I ran the blood and the epithelials found on the broken glass you gave me," Maxine told him. "I took the swab Ryan got from Daniella Thomas and compared it to what we already had. It wasn't a match to the blood. But," she added as Horatio looked up, "it seems that whoever was using the glass is female and related to Daniella Thomas. The blood is also from a female who is not related to Daniella Thomas."

Horatio frowned thoughtfully. "Then that means that glass was probably used by her mother, Irene. But we probably need to do a DNA comparison to be sure."

"If you can give me something to compare it to," Maxine said, "I can find out who used the glass."

"I think I know just where to start. Thank you, Ms. Valera."

"So what do we know about Mary Andrews?" Ryan asked Calleigh as they were on the way to Mary Andrews' house.

"She…" Calleigh braked at a stop light before answering. "She's a widow. Her husband, Robert Bullock, died two years ago from kidney failure. He had a medical practice but none of his children took it, so it's being run by some guy named Lawrence Williams. She has three children by Bullock: Amber, Derrick, and Emily. Thirty-four, twenty-four, and twenty-two respectively. She evidently lives off of her late husband's fortune because no occupation is listed."

Ryan frowned as they drove off from the light. "Wasn't Robert Bullock the father of Irene Wolfe's first six children?"

"I think so. Which makes it a very, very small world. Why do you ask?"

"I'm just thinking. You were saying how Irene Wolfe was very protective of Matt Chambers, and maybe Ms. Andrews had a problem with their close relationship. She was Donald's girlfriend for a little while, and Irene Wolfe was over his house last night for drinks. Hey—how old did you say Ms. Andrews' oldest daughter was?"

"Thirty-four." Calleigh's brows knit together. "Are you going somewhere with this?"

"On Danie Thomas's dossier, it says her oldest sister Jessica is thirty-one. Maybe Irene Thomas got Robert Bullock on the marriage certificate, but Mary was his mistress. There's a ten year gap between Mary's eldest daughter and her son, but their ages indicate that Mary was pregnant with them while Robert was married to Irene. In this case, Irene was Donald's friend, the one his son considered his mother figure; Mary tried to wheedle her way in, but it didn't work."

"Motive." Calleigh's mouth curved. "It's almost like a soap opera, but it's a motive nonetheless. I don't know if it's something we can convict on, but it's a start." She flicked a glance at him. "Pretty good for someone who was late to work this morning."

Ryan rolled his eyes as they pulled into Mary Andrews' driveway. "I'm never going to live that down, am I?" he muttered.

Calleigh just smiled meaningfully and said nothing. They got out of the Hummer and walked to the door.

When Calleigh stood there demurely, Ryan sighed. He leaned over to ring the doorbell and they waited.

After a moment, the door opened. A young woman with dark brown hair and hazel-green eyes answered the door. She wore jeans and a wrinkled T-shirt. Her eyes were weary, and Calleigh saw a resemblance to Mary Andrews in her. Gauging from her appearance and what she already knew, Calleigh guessed that she was Emily Bullock.

"Hello," Calleigh said in a gentler tone than her brisk policewoman's manner. "We're from the Miami-Dade Crime Lab. My name is Calleigh Duquesne and this is my partner Ryan Wolfe. We would like to speak with your mother. Is she home?"

Emily nodded. "Come in."

They followed Emily into the palatial home that Mary Andrews owned. Calleigh raised an eyebrow at a large portrait of Mary hanging in the living room. Ryan found himself staring in incredulousness at the absurdity of a statue of a house pet. The placard revealed that it was of the resident cat Sparkle.

Emily glanced back and saw their expressions. "I suppose I'm not the only one who thinks my mother's a little off her rocker." She shook her head. "It's gotten worse since Dad died. She's just been spending her time going after meaningless things."

"Do you live here, Emily?" Ryan asked.

She shook her head. "I came to visit when Mom called me a couple of days ago. I go to college at Kaminari University in California. I'm a senior there." Emily inhaled and paused when they got to the sliding glass doors leading outside to the pool. "She was a little manic. Apparently, her relationship with Donald Chambers had just ended, and Derrick came home the same day with Lynne Baxley. They're getting married in the summer."

Calleigh and Ryan shared a meaningful glance but said nothing on the subject aloud.

"Were you here last night with your mother?" Calleigh wanted to know.

Emily blushed a little. "Well… I…kinda went out with my cousin Julianne. Besides," she added with an aggravated glance outside, "I needed a break. That woman has sucked the life out of me." Sensing that perhaps she had said the wrong thing, Emily placed her hands on the door handles. "She's out here."

When she pushed the doors apart, the first thing Calleigh and Ryan were aware of was the fact that someone was crying hysterically. Emily stepped outside and led them to a chaise lounge where a dark-haired woman was sitting. Another woman was perched on the lounge with her, her back to Emily approaching with Calleigh and Ryan.

"I can't believe this is happening!" Mary was lamenting between sobs. "All I wanted was to be with him…"

"It's alright, sugar," said the blonde. Her voice was thickly accented with the South of peach trees and magnolias. "He knew that you loved him. He would have probably seen the error of his ways."

Emily sighed heavily and cleared her throat as loudly as she possibly could.

Mary froze, a tissue to her nose. Her blotchy face went slack with shock. The blonde turned around, a perfectly tweezed eyebrow raised. Her cool gray eyes were filled with annoyance.

"What in the world…?" the blonde glimpsed the two people standing behind Emily and quickly fixed her face to more welcoming lines. "Why…Mary dear, you have visitors."

"They're from the crime lab," Emily told them in a voice that was slightly gleeful. "Apparently they want to _talk to you_, Mother."

Mary sat up straight, almost theatrically. "Is this about Donald?"

"We would like to ask you a few questions," Calleigh responded, managing to insert some briskness into her tone without sounding clipped. Emily made herself scarce at that point.

But it didn't erase the South from her tones, and the blonde noticed. She promptly asked where Calleigh was from.

"Louisiana," Calleigh responded, feeling a bit impatient.

"Why isn't that a coincidence? I was just talking to my cousin from Baton Rouge the other day."

Calleigh pasted a tight smile on her face that looked suspiciously like a grimace. "That's great. But we need to talk to Ms. Andrews…"

"Um," Ryan broke in, "actually, Calleigh, I can talk to Ms. Andrews while you, um, talk to. Ms…"

"Baxley," the woman supplied. "Savannah Baxley, nee Hollingsworth."

Calleigh pursed her lips together. She would maim Ryan later when no one was watching. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Baxley. Maybe the two of us can talk over here by the trees."

Calleigh and Savannah drifted off to a spot by the trees. Ryan moved closer to Mary and allowed her a moment to gain her composure.

"I'm sorry," Mary said tearfully. "I…it's just so tragic. I wanted nothing more for Donald than happiness, but he didn't get it…"

"I understand that the two of you were in a relationship, Ms. Andrews," Ryan commented. "Why did you two break up?"

"It just wasn't our time," Mary replied. "It wasn't written in the stars for us at the moment. But I knew inside my heart of hearts that the planets would shift and align and the time would come."

Ryan was so overwhelmed by the feeling of utter and complete disgust that had suddenly arose in him that he almost asked the wrong question. _What the hell are you on? _would not be part of the proper line of questioning in a murder investigation.

"Where were you this morning around seven a.m., Ms. Andrews?" There. The _right_ question.

Mary sniffled. "I was here. At home. Where else would I be?" Her eyes turned gloomy. "With Donald gone, I haven't felt like going anywhere."

"Was there anyone here with you?"

Mary shook her head. "I was here alone."

"Do you know of anyone who would want to cause any harm to Mr. Chambers?"

Mary teared up again. Ryan wanted to flee. "No one would want to hurt Donald. He was such a sweet, sweet man."

Calleigh threw Ryan a look of helplessness as Savannah was spouting off about fixing Calleigh up on a date with her son. Ryan raised an eyebrow and decided that it was time to go.

"Thank you for your time, Ms. Andrews," Ryan said. And hoped Horatio was having more luck with Daniella Thomas's big sister.


	5. More than Just Her Legs

**CHAPTER FIVE**

**_Full Name:_** _Jessica Kathleen Robyn Thomas_

**_Age:_** _31_

**_Date of Birth:_** _December 20_

**_Place of Birth:_** _Manhattan, New York_

**_Place of Residence:_** _Gracia, California_

**_Hair:_** _Auburn_

**_Eyes:_** _Dark Blue_

**_Height:_** _5'11"_

**_Weight:_** _145_

**_Siblings:_** _Eric Ashton David Thomas, 29; Claudia-Michelle Ellen Thomas-Merrell, 27; _

_Moira-Selene Eleanor Thomas, 27; Daniella Elizabeth Melissa Thomas, 27; _

_Gretchen Ashleigh Amanda Thomas, 27; Angelica Adrienne Wolfe, 6; _

_Angelique Darienne Wolfe 6; Angela Marieanne Wolfe, 6; _

_Evangelina Vivienne Wolfe, 22 mos._

**_Parents:_** _Irene Margaret Thomas Bullock Wolfe, mother; Robert Bullock, father, deceased; David Wolfe, stepfather_

**_Child(ren):_** _None_

**_Occupation:_** _Former Chief of Emergency Medicine at Gracia_ _Memorial_ _Hospital;_

_CEO_ _of Merrell Enterprises_

**_Education:_** _High-school diploma from Audbone_ _Heights_ _High School; _

_B.S. in Biology from Cornell_ _University; _

_Medical degree from Cornell_ _University_

The top floor of the Merrell Enterprises Miami building was a study in contrasts. Dark wood was a backdrop to colorful pictures and furniture in vibrant but not gaudy colors. Here, everyone had an office, and there were at least four secretaries.

Only one secretary concerned Horatio. And her name was Brenda.

Brenda was an efficient brunette in conservative colors unlike Charlene Daniels. When she saw him, she ended her phone conversation and greeted Horatio with a smile.

"Hello, sir. How may I help you?"

"My name is Horatio Caine," he told her. "I would like to see Jessica Thomas. Is she available?"

"Sure." She pushed a button on her phone. "Jessica, there is a Horatio Caine here to see you."

After a moment, the reply came. "Send him in."

Brenda pointed in the direction of the office. "Her office is the second on the right. Her name is on the door."

"Thank you, ma'am." With that, Horatio walked away.

True to Brenda's word, there was an office door labeled _J. Kathleen Thomas_. He knocked and waited for someone to tell him to come in. A moment passed, and he was granted permission to enter.

She was almost as tall as he was, mostly leg. The insolent look in her deep aqua eyes indicated that she didn't want to be known for her physical appearance. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a bun, no-nonsense. When they locked eyes, Horatio had a suspicion that he was going to have trouble with this woman. But that didn't necessarily mean she killed Donald Chambers.

"Are you Lieutenant Caine?" the woman asked. She had a low-pitched voice with no discernable accent.

"Yes," he replied. "I'm here to talk to you about Donald Chambers."

The woman sobered, and Horatio noticed that her sadness was genuine. "I heard about it from my mother just now. She also told me about the intense Lieutenant Caine she encountered while trying to take care of Matt."

Horatio felt the corner of his mouth rising in a sardonic half-smile. "I apologize if your mother took offense to my methods, but it is my job to investigate this murder. I fully intend to do my job."

The woman nodded. "And I'm not stupid, Lieutenant. I am fully aware of your sense of justice." She glanced down briefly at her desk, fingered a file idly. Horatio glanced at it, and instinctively knew that this shrewd woman had done some digging of her own. "I've encountered too many corrupt people in my day, and so has my mother." She stepped forward, and, understanding that Horatio didn't fully have reason to trust her, she didn't hold out a hand. "My name is Jessica Thomas, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Thomas," Horatio said. "Since we seem to understand each other, I would like to ask you a few direct questions."

Jessica leaned on the front of her desk. "Ask away."

"Where were you between the hours of six and eight this morning?"

"I was here," Jessica replied. "I had a couple of meetings with Josh and Charles Merrell to prepare for the acquisition of a smaller corporation. Josh and Charles, along with my secretary, can verify. Before that, I had breakfast with my younger sister Danie. She had to be on a plane to New York for publicity, but she has cancelled all of her engagements given the circumstances."

Horatio took note of this inwardly and formed his next line of query. "Tell me about your relationship with Donald Chambers."

Jessica nodded, understanding the line of questioning but visibly troubled. "Donald…was like an uncle to me," she told Horatio. "I didn't have any biological uncles so he filled that place in my life. When I needed advice or business expertise, I went to him."

"I have been told that you and Mr. Chambers weren't exactly on good terms."

"Well," Jessica began, "I was investigating a touchy matter, and he didn't think I should have been pursuing it. I believed he knew something vital to it, but he wouldn't tell me. Though, I have to bluntly admit, I wouldn't murder him over it. I just…" She swallowed back tears. "Sorry. It hits me sometimes without warning. As I was…saying. I just would have pestered him until he gave me what I wanted. Somewhat like a petulant niece would."

"What, may I ask, were you investigating, Ms. Thomas?" Horatio inquired.

Jessica shook her head. "I would like to tell you, but I would like to keep this secret for as long as I possibly can. No one knows I'm doing this, and I'm…a little apprehensive that the matter might disturb some. Disturb them violently."

Horatio nodded, understanding, but he was an investigator, an officer of the law. He couldn't just let that lie. "You do realize that you will have to tell me eventually. If the person who did this has something to do with your investigation, you're obstructing justice."

"And I will inform you when the time comes," Jessica responded evenly. "Good day, Lieutenant Caine."

A classy and patient man like Horatio Caine knew when it was a good time to make an exit. He bade Jessica goodbye and left. But she was still on his short list until evidence proved otherwise.

After Horatio exited her office, Jessica leaned on her desk a minute before shifting to pick up her phone. She pushed a button and was instantly connected with the person she wanted to speak to.

"Jessica?" asked a male voice.

"Look, I want you to get away for a little while," Jessica said without preamble.

There was a laugh at that statement. "What do you mean? I'm perfectly fine, Jessica."

"Yes, and I would like you to stay that way," Jessica told him. Before he could speak, she added, "Just trust me on this one, okay? Take a little vacation for a week and don't tell anyone where you're going. We'll be fine here."

Once they came to an agreement, Jessica hung up the phone and exhaled. She rounded the desk and sat down in her chair. She reached under her shirt and pulled out a key dangling from a gold chain. The key opened a drawer that held some very important documents—documents Jessica wanted to conceal.

She hadn't been in the drawer for a couple of days because of the upheaval with the merger, and it still shocked her that she was doing such a thing. But she made a promise to someone she loved very much—and she never broke her promises.

But as she held a piece of paper that could break something just as dear: her family.

_Ignorance is bliss._

She wished she could have turned back the clock and erased that moment she had overheard a conversation that changed her life. She wished she could have closed her ears, her eyes. But she knew what she knew and would have to live with that. And keep searching until she found the truth.


	6. Not Exactly A Lover's Quarrel

**CHAPTER SIX**

Horatio met Eric in the lobby of the first floor of the Merrell Enterprises building. They walked together to the Hummer, and Eric filled Horatio in on his canvass of the top floor.

"Everyone had nothing but good things to say about Jessica Thomas and the Merrells," Eric told him. "There were some complaints about the workload during the past few weeks, but nothing overly incriminating. I also think some people were intimidated by the fact that Jessica Thomas is a woman."

"Anything about Donald Chambers?"

"Nothing but the fact that he and Charles were best friends." Eric held his next statement off until they had neared the Hummer. "I don't know, H. Of the people that we have interviewed so far, none of them pop for me. I don't know if I'm missing something or we haven't stumbled upon the killer yet."

"So far, I'm inclined to agree," Horatio admitted. "But then again, people have been known to surprise us with incriminating activity. In that case, we keep digging." He took his cell phone from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He pushed a button and was instantly connected with someone who could help him take the next step.

Meanwhile, a shout perked up Eric's ears. Horatio ended his phone call abruptly as Eric turned to the scene.

A woman was arguing fervently with a man by a purple Sebring convertible. Her long black hair was pulled down from earlier but she still wore the lavender top and jeans she'd walked into the Miami-Dade Crime Lab with.

Yes, Daniella Thomas was instantly recognizable.

"You know her?" Horatio asked.

"That's Daniella Thomas," Eric replied. "She came in this morning wearing that outfit, so it's safe to say she hasn't changed clothes."

"This could be interesting," Horatio murmured, and walked to the scene.

Danie was trying to get into her car but there was someone in her way. He looked to be a couple of years older than she was. He wore his blond hair short with an air of casual wealth. His sand-colored slacks and black shirt were designer duds, and his watch actually had diamonds on it. It seemed that wealth couldn't buy humility.

"You better get your hand off my car door, Theodore," Danie was saying angrily. "I'm going to tell you one last time."

"Stop being difficult," Theodore told her. "Can't you see? Donald Chambers' death is a sign, Danie. We have to seize the moment before we lose our lives."

Danie stared at him, dead-pan. "I'd rather lose my life, honestly."

Theodore moved toward her, and Horatio chose that moment to speak.

"I think you better take two big steps away from Ms. Thomas, sir." Horatio's voice was deadly polite. Danie's gaze switched to him, then to Eric. Theodore's brown eyes did the same, but his eyes were filled with annoyance while Danie looked thankful.

"We were just having a conversation," Theodore informed him pointedly. "And who are you? The police?"

Horatio smiled—a baring of the teeth that hinted at hidden ferocity. "You're a smart man, Theodore."

Theodore, seeing that he was disadvantaged and outnumbered, gave Danie a hasty goodbye. Danie just glared at him until he got behind the seat of his black sports car and roared away.

Horatio walked up to Danie. Eric followed. She looked at them both, eyes filled with gratitude.

"I'm so glad you two showed up when you did," Danie remarked, running a hand through her hair. "I think I was a second away from doing major physical damage to him. Then you would have been carting me off to jail for attempted murder."

Eric chuckled. "Not that we blame you. He seems like a high-class jerk."

"High-class is right, but no accounting for taste." She tilted her head. "I remember you," she said to Eric, "but I don't know you." She pointed to Horatio. But then her eyebrows furrowed. "But you look really familiar and I don't know how or why…"

"My name is Horatio Caine, ma'am," Horatio introduced himself.

"Hm. Doesn't ring a bell. But I'm Danie Thomas." She shook his hand, then looked to Eric. "I still don't know your name."

"Eric Delko," he responded with a smile.

She smiled back. "Nice to meet you both." She then sighed. "It's been a horrible morning. I'm here to see Jess. I was going to wait until tonight but I have to talk to her now. I'm feeling a bit shaky from all the upheaval. And then Theodore Baxley, the Poster Boy for Criminal Stalking, just came out of nowhere, spouting bullshit about going out with me. It's usual thing."

"Did he threaten you?" Eric inquired.

Danie shook her head as the wind ruffled her long black hair. "No. But he creeps me out. He and his mother both. For some reason they have the misconception that I would want to marry into the Baxley family." She snorted.

Horatio straightened, his mind working to connect the dots. _He and his mother both._ There was the pop. A small one, but one nonetheless.

"Danie, were Theodore Baxley's mother and Donald Chambers close?" Horatio asked.

Danie shook her head again. "Polar opposites. Savannah Baxley has blue blood, and swears up and down she's related to Jefferson Davis. She's a pure Southern woman with good Southern values." Danie rolled her eyes. "Unfortunately, she's a bit delusional to add to the mix so she's unusual and old-fashioned. She's of the type who believes in being a housewife and all that. She's fervently anti-feminist, anti-miscegenation, anti anything that isn't what she agrees with. The woman still swoons for god's sakes."

"So very Southern it hurts," Eric remarked.

"Yeah. Well, anyway, Donald detested her for it and kept a wide berth. Not to mention…" Danie's eyes clouded over with remembrance. "Not to mention Savannah blamed—and probably still does blame—everyone except for herself for her husband's death."

"How did Savannah's husband die?"

Danie shrugged. "I was like nine when it happened. I don't remember everything clearly. I think there was some outdoorsy type thing and he was shot. It was a tragic accident."

"Can you remember anything else?"

She leaned on the car and pondered for a second. Then her eyes lit up. "Come to think of it…I do. It…it was a camping trip. I believe later I heard that…" Her face went pale and she wavered, her legs buckling under her. Eric went her side and held her up until her legs were steady again.

"Ms. Thomas?" Horatio prodded firmly. "Ms. Thomas, are you alright?"

Danie inhaled deeply, visibly troubled. "I think I need to sit down somewhere."


	7. Rosemary

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Fifteen minutes later, Danie snapped her cell phone shut and put it away. She was now sitting in a chair in a conference room in front of Eric and Horatio.

"Jessica is going to meet me later," she told them. "I didn't tell her what I was doing. She doesn't need to worry about me any more than she usually does." She took a drink of water from the cup nearby before she spoke again.

"Let's start at the beginning," Horatio said. "Around what time of year was the camping trip? Do you remember?"

"It was late summer, almost fall," Danie answered. "I remember because I'd just had my tenth birthday. So it had to be sometime after September second."

"Who all went along?"

Danie's eyebrows furrowed. "Okay, that's where it gets tricky. Since I wasn't paying very good attention at the time, I don't clearly remember. I know my father went. That's a certainty. He talked about Charles and…Donald." Danie nodded vigorously. "Yeah, they went. And Jonathan Baxley, of course."

"Were there any signs of discontent among them?" Eric inquired.

"I don't remember any. But Baxley did seem anxious when they left that day. I remember that because my cousin Jennifer and I were going to have a sleepover at her house and she noticed his face. He looked tired, like he hadn't been sleeping well. I didn't hear Mom or Father mention why."

"What happened when they returned?"

"I was with my cousin when they came back. Mom had us quads and Eric over our friends' houses. Back then, I didn't understand why, but now I realize she was trying to protect us from the reality of Jonathan Baxley's death." Danie shook her head, thinking of it again. "There was a funeral, but we didn't go. We were forbidden to go, us kids. Mom said we didn't need anymore sadness in our lives…" Danie's eyes drifted to her hands. "Especially after Jessica was…" She fought with the last word before mind won out over matter. "Raped."

As if the word had pried something loose, Horatio suddenly retrieved a memory from the recesses of his mind.

_I've always been a little afraid of the dark. Were you ever afraid of the dark, Detective Caine?_

"Lieutenant Caine?" Danie's voice broke through Horatio's reverie. They locked eyes, and Danie knew from where she remembered him. A hospital room eighteen years ago. He sat beside her sister as she cried and told him how she had been raped.

"_Te recuerdo,"_ she told him. "_Yo creo que me recuerdas también. Estabas allí la noche cuando mi hermana mayor fue violado."_

"_Estaba allí,"_ Horatio confirmed.

"So then you understand," Danie said. "I don't remember a lot of things about that particular moment in time when it happened. Most of the stuff I heard when I was older.

"When I got to be about eighteen, I went out on a date with Theodore Baxley." Danie rolled her eyes when Horatio's eyebrows raised. "Okay, go ahead and get your laughs out now. Anyhow, he got really drunk and started mouthing off. That's when I found out that Donald had been the one to accidentally kill Jonathan Baxley."

_Donald had been the one to accidentally kill Jonathan Baxley._ "Did Baxley's widow take any legal action against Donald?" Horatio asked.

"Um…" Danie had to think. "Yes! She did. They agreed on a settlement or something. Donald had a dynamite lawyer so Savannah didn't away with much." Danie snickered. "That's what you get when you grapple with Irene Thomas and lose horribly." Then she frowned. "You think it's possible that Savannah had something to do…?" Danie sat back in the chair, dazed.

"If she did, Danie," Horatio began in a firm voice that allowed for no argument, "you let me take care of her. It's what I do."

Danie nodded absently. Eric could see the defiant gleam in her eyes. Horatio saw it, too. She didn't hide it very well.

But then she looked at him with suddenly elusive eyes. "Whatever you say, Lieutenant."

**New York, about eighteen years ago**

_He had been in hospitals before. He had spoken to victims sitting on examination tables wearing nothing but their wounds and a drafty hospital gown. For some reason, this was different. This was more heinous than the everyday crime. _

_The victim was thirteen years old. Her name was Jessica Thomas, and she had been raped earlier than night._

_Her mother was speaking to a doctor outside the examination room so that he could have a moment with the young woman. He observed that there was no father around. Five dark-haired children sat nearby, busying themselves with playing cards. He almost wished that one of his female colleagues could do this, but none of them were on hand. He inhaled deeply, trying to gather the strength to be gentle enough to handle this fragile young woman amid a delicate situation._

_She was wearing a hospital gown. She hugged herself tightly with thickly bandaged arms, perched on the edge of the examination table as if she was ready for collapse. Her auburn curls had dirt and splatters of blood in them, and grime stained her freckled face. She stared straight ahead, her eyes unfocused. She didn't look at him until he was nearly beside her._

"_Jessica?" She turned her eyes upon him. "My name is Detective Horatio Caine." He came closer very slowly so he wouldn't alarm her. "I would like to ask you about what happened tonight."_

_Jessica's lower lip trembled and she pursed it together with her upper lip to stop the shaking. She clutched the cloth underneath her arms with enough force to tear the gown apart. He decided to take another approach. _

"_Something horrible happened to you tonight," he told her. "And I want to tell you that it isn't your fault." She sniffled. "The man that did this won't harm you ever again."_

"_I know he won't," she said in a tremulous voice. "Because I killed him." She frowned at the admission. "I did something very wrong, didn't I?"_

_He shook his head. "You defended yourself. You did nothing wrong." When she looked at him dubiously, he added, "No matter what anyone says to you, Jessica, you did nothing wrong. You did what you had to. That man might have killed you. Would you have let him take your life?" She shook her head. "I want you to remember that, okay?" She then nodded. "Do you mind answering my questions?"_

"_I'll answer your questions," she replied softly. _

"_Good. Good." He turned and gently pulled up a chair, making sure to move slowly. "Jessica, I want you to tell me about tonight."_

_She slowly relaxed her fingers and placed them on the hem on the hospital gown. It took her a moment before she could speak the first sentence._

"_I've always been afraid of the dark," she admitted softly. She looked at him, eyes watering a bit. But they were surprisingly frank. "Were you ever afraid of the dark, Detective Caine?"_

"_I have," he admitted. "The dark can be very frightening. Is that why you went out? To conquer your fears?"_

"_I go to school in the morning," she explained after a slight hesitation. "I'm usually in my classes longer than my friends are in theirs. While they go out, I'm stuck at home studying for class the next day. So I…I don't go out at night anymore."_

"_What school do you go to?"_

_She tugged at a stray thread in the gown. "I'm in my first semester at Cornell_ _University. My friends…my friends are in high school. I don't have many of them because mostly everyone thinks it's strange for a teenager to be in college."_

"_Who wanted you to come out tonight?"_

"_There was this party," she revealed. "Everyone in class was talking about it. They pestered me about it until I agreed to go." She looked at him again. "Does that make me a complete idiot?"_

"_You are nothing of the kind," he assured her. "No matter what your I.Q. is, or how much education you have, you're still a teenager. And you need to do teenage things every once in a while."_

_Now assured, she told him how she had concocted a story about a study date with some classmates. She had gotten her mother's approval, and she had gone out with people five years her senior._

_Her classmates had deserted her, had left her with an overzealous young man with enough libido to power a steam engine. The young man had knocked her around, had threatened her with broken glass. She had the gashes on her arms to demonstrate how she tried to defend herself. He had overpowered her and raped her. During the rape, she had reached out for a piece of broken glass and had stabbed him in the chest. Weak and disoriented, she had gotten as far as the door before she could go no more. She had been discovered by another student—but not one of her classmates. They—her classmates—had been discovered in a drunken haze._

_By the time she was finished, Jessica was trembling and crying again. He reached out and took her hand, telling her in a low voice that everything was alright now. She was alright. Everything would turn out fine. _

_Three girls stood in the door, their eyes gazing upon the scene in morbid fascination. One, the tallest one, tilted her head and stared at him for a long time as if she wanted to see into his brain. One, the littlest one of the three, began to cry a little, seeing her big sister reduced to tears and trembles. The last one just peered at him through her glasses. A moment passed before he noticed that the girls were there. They locked eyes with him, but their expressions didn't change._

_A nurse came in at that moment, and the girls moved out of the doorway. "Detective Caine?"_

_He gave the nurse a nod and turned to Jessica. "I have to go now. Your mother will be here with you."_

_She pursed her lips together again. It took her a few tries before she could force anything coherent from her wavering lips. "De-Detective Caine? Cou-could you do me a favor? P-please don't let this happen to anyone else."_

"_I'll try my damnedest," he promised._

_Her mother slipped in at that moment and took his place. He gave her a reassuring look before leaving the room to follow the nurse. As he was leaving, though, the three girls watched him walk away. The tall one, the one with the violet eyes, was staring the hardest. But there was hope in her eyes._


	8. Checking In and the Broken Promise

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

When Calleigh and Ryan came back from their interview with Mary Andrews, they couldn't find Horatio. They found Tripp walking past with a file folder in his hand and stopped him.

"Have you seen Horatio?" Calleigh asked him.

"He's in interview with that model," Tripp told them. "Danie Thomas. He and Eric came in with her about five minutes ago."

"Is she the killer?" Ryan asked.

"Nope, don't think so," Tripp replied. "I think she had some information about the case, though. She looked pale and shell-shocked."

Calleigh and Ryan shared a glance. "Well," Ryan began, "we just came back from Mary Andrews' house. The woman needs to be on an anti-depressant. And her friend was trying to set Calleigh up with her son."

"That whole experience took Southern hospitality to a whole new level," Calleigh muttered. "I thought the woman was going to take out a Confederate flag and salute it."

"I'm sorry to have missed that one, Calleigh," Tripp said in a voice that indicated that he was being sarcastic.

"What's in the folder?" Ryan wanted to know. Tripp handed it to him, and he perused it. Then he paused in the middle of the hallway in shock.

"Hey Calleigh, this is Mary's friend." He met Calleigh's inquisitive gaze. "Savannah Baxley. That's her name. Why did Horatio have you look her up, Tripp?"

"Horatio wanted me to look her up and her son Theodore," Tripp told them. "Maybe this Danie character has something to do with it."

While Calleigh and Ryan considered this, a loud voice pierced the calm efficiency of the lab. They all turned to see a dark-haired woman wearing a business suit followed by a younger woman resembling her—and she looked remarkably like Danie Thomas. The younger woman wore jeans and a black screen tee with a skull and crossbones on the front. In the younger woman's arms was a toddler with strawberry blond hair and a lollipop.

"Oh God," Calleigh muttered. "It's Irene Wolfe again."

"Mom," the younger woman was saying, "you need to calm down. Yelling at people will not move things along. I'm sure everything's alright."

"I will not let the police department harass my family," Irene snapped.

"Mom," the woman said. "Chill. Go sit down before you have a stroke." When her mother opened her mouth, she added, "Please?"

"I know where you can sit down, ma'am," Calleigh broke in, all smiles and Southern-genteel.

With a long-suffering sigh, the mother walked down the hall with Calleigh and sat down on the bench. Calleigh bent down and asked her something before disappearing for a moment.

Once her mother was out of hearing range, the woman exhaled. "I am so sorry. My mother's stressed out right now, and this whole situation isn't helping." She held out her free hand. "I'm Gretchen Thomas."

Ryan shook her hand. "Ryan Wolfe. I'm guessing you're Danie's twin."

"Quadruplet," Gretchen corrected. "We're fraternal. Is she really here?"

"Yeah," Ryan replied. "But I don't know why. My boss must have brought her in for some reason."

The toddler in Gretchen's arms suddenly giggled and tried to stick her lollipop in Gretchen's mouth. Ryan supposed that she wanted to share the sticky, sugary goodness. Gretchen puckered her lips so that it wouldn't go in her mouth. The little girl thought it was funny and tried to emulate it, giggling and babbling. Gretchen sighed and then turned back to Ryan.

"Sorry," she apologized again. "This is my little sister Evangelina. She's not quite two. Lina likes to share, don't you, sweetheart?" Gretchen tickled her and a high-pitched giggle escaped. A smile curved Ryan's lips. "I was with Mom, Lina, and the triplets for lunch when Jess, our big sister, called. Apparently, she found out that Danie was brought here."

"Did your sister call anyone?" When Gretchen just looked at him, Ryan added, "Danie, I mean."

"She called Jessica to tell her that she would meet her later," Gretchen answered. "But Brenda walked out for her lunch break and discovered Danie's car in the parking lot. Jess got a little worried and found out from someone that she was seen talking with two men and then put into a Hummer with the Miami-Dade seal on it. And so the rest is history."

"I honestly don't think your sister is under arrest," Ryan said. "She might just be here for questioning."

"I hope so." Gretchen frowned. "I saw Donald Chambers from time to time, but he was a nice guy. He was the type you could see bouncing toddlers on his lap."

At that moment, a door opened down the hall. Horatio strode out first, appearing like he was on to something. Eric came out next leading Danie down the hallway. She looked tired and pale.

Lina reacted first. "Her-mama!" she yelled gleefully, not quite able to say _hermana_.

Danie looked up and saw Gretchen and Lina standing with Ryan. Her eyes widened. Lina squirmed and Gretchen put her down. Lina ran on her little legs to her older sister. Unfortunately for her good intentions, she ran into Horatio first.

Clutching Horatio's pant leg to keep her balance, Lina looked up into eyes as blue as her own.

"Hello, there," Horatio greeted her warmly.

"Hi," Lina said with a toothy grin. She held up her lollipop for his perusal. "Lolly?"

Embarrassed, Gretchen scooped up her little sister. She smiled apologetically at Horatio and Lina noticed Danie again. Danie stepped forward and took her little sister from Gretchen.

"I'm so sorry," Gretchen found herself saying one more time. "When she gets going, you just can't stop her." Her glance darted toward Danie holding Lina then back to Horatio. "Sir, is my sister in trouble?"

"Your sister is perfectly fine," Horatio assured her. "She just had to answer some more questions for me."

Gretchen nearly collapsed with relief. "Oh good. Now Mom can take that chill pill she so desperately needs."

"Mom's here?" Danie sighed. "Aw hell."

"Aw hell," Lina repeated, diction perfect.

"Danie?!" Gretchen exclaimed in exasperation.

Danie winced. "I always forget. Bad girl, Lina. Don't ever repeat that again," she added. "But I don't get it. I didn't call anybody. Well, just Jessica."

"Your car is still in the parking lot at Merrell Enterprises. Someone saw it and told Jessica."

Danie winced again. "I wish she could just calm down for a minute. It wasn't a big deal. I just told Lieutenant Caine and Eric something they wanted to know. It was the least I could do. They rescued me from the clutches of imminent doom. Theodore tried to ask me out again."

"It's like the kiss of death," Gretchen quipped wryly. "Well, as fun as this has been, we should really be leaving. I'm sure you guys have leads to chase or something. And we have to get Mom home and to a bed, pronto."

Danie shook her head and sighed again. "She's going to burst a vein. I can see it from here." She turned to Eric with a tired, but fetching, smile. "Thank you for helping me. I really appreciate it."

"Oh, no problem," Eric replied with a gentlemanly grin in return. "Anytime."

Danie then placed a hand on Horatio's arm. "Oh, and thank you, Lieutenant. I think you scared Theodore away from me for a while. I am eternally in your debt."

After goodbyes, Gretchen led Danie and Lina away to their mother, who was still sitting. Calleigh had brought her a cold cloth to put over her throbbing head. The Thomas sisters left with their mother, and Tripp came up to Horatio.

"Here's the file you wanted, Horatio," he told him. "I took the liberty of looking up her dead husband, too."

Ryan frowned as Horatio read the folder. "What does her dead husband have to do with all of this?"

"Danie just told us about a camping trip she remembered from when she was little," Eric replied. "Theodore Baxley's father went on a camping trip with Danie's dead father, Charles Merrell, and Donald Chambers."

"Yes," Horatio said absently. "In the police report, it says that Donald Chambers shot Baxley on accident. They tried to charge Chambers for murder but there wasn't enough evidence for the charges to stick. So they dropped them and let Chambers go with probation and some heavy fines. Savannah Baxley filed a lawsuit but there was a settlement."

"So you think Theodore Baxley killed Donald Chambers?" Ryan asked.

"He certainly has motive," Eric said. "He's the eldest son, the heir. Maybe he wanted revenge."

"It's enough to bring him in," Horatio commented. "You can do the honors, Frank."

"It'll be my pleasure." Tripp walked away.

Horatio turned to Ryan. "Did the interview with Mary Andrews unearth anything?"

"Other than the fact that the woman needs medicinal assistance?" Eric snorted. "Sorry," Ryan said. "We found out that she doesn't have a solid alibi for this morning. She said she was at home but alone. Made no phone calls or did anything that would put her at home within the time frame. She confirmed the fact that she and Chambers were in a relationship and it ended recently. Savannah Baxley was also there."

Horatio's ears perked up. "Was she now?"

"Apparently, she and Mary are friends. Savannah had an alibi for this morning though. She told Calleigh that she had been on the phone with a business partner in Europe for a couple of hours when Calleigh pulled her aside. Calleigh is probably checking out the phone number Savannah gave right now. We told them both we'd be in touch."

"At this stage, we have no evidence tying Mary Andrews to the scene," Horatio pointed out. "No matter how guilty she seems, no jury is going to convict on a gut instinct. Ryan, I want you to look up a man named Chance Copeland. He was Chambers' second-in-command at Chambers Oil until a few months ago. He's another person with a possible motive and someone I want in interview."

"I'm on it," Ryan said, and walked off.

Horatio turned to Eric. "When Theodore Baxley gets here, I want you to process him. If he killed Donald Chambers, I want to know."

Outside, Gretchen gave Lina to her mother with an apologetic smile. "_Mama, estaremos allí en un momento."_

Irene looked at her daughter dubiously, wondering what was going through her head. But she was too tired to try to figure it out. "Alright. Hurry up, _mija_."

When her mother had climbed in the backseat with Lina and was out of earshot, Gretchen turned to Danie, green eyes alight with suspicion. Danie stared at her little sister in surprise.

"What the hell is up with you?" she demanded.

"I can see that look in your eyes, Daniella Elizabeth," Gretchen scolded.

Danie couldn't fight an eyeroll. "Don't call me Daniella Elizabeth. It's bad enough Jessica calls me that. Just spit whatever it is out so we can go home."

"Answer me truthfully," Gretchen ordered. "What did you tell them, Danie?"

"Does it matter? It has nothing to do with you. Besides, it'll help the case. Maybe they can catch the person who did it with the information I gave them." Her eyes darkened. "My money's on Savannah Baxley."

Gretchen made a face. "Savannah Baxley? That woman can hardly kill a fly without getting someone to do it—" She bit off the rest of her sentence with two realizations: one, that perhaps Savannah could be behind this with someone doing her bidding, and two, that Danie knew this, too, and wanted to cause her bodily harm.

"Don't you dare!" Danie hissed as Gretchen opened her mouth to speak. "Don't give me a goddamn lecture. If I get the urge to string Savannah Baxley up by her colored roots to get the truth out of her, it's my business."

"Not if someone's gotta post your bail, _estupida_," Gretchen countered. She gestured behind Danie. "Besides, Lieutenant Caine won't let you."

"What does Lieutenant Caine have to do with this?" Danie snapped. She suddenly remembered the night Jessica was raped again and shook her head to get it out of her brain. "Look, let's put this to rest, Gretchen, and go home. We have to take care of Mom. And probably Matt, too."

"Okay, fine. But will you promise to let them handle this?"

Danie promised solemnly. But it was only to shut Gretchen up. Not to mention, and she'd be embarrassed to admit it, she had her fingers crossed behind her back.


	9. The Blue Eyed Monkey Wrench

**CHAPTER NINE**

Chance Copeland was a shrewd man. Or, at least he was in his warped mind. Where his ego resided, he was the king, the emperor, the president. He could do anything he wanted without reproach because he was beyond it. He knew that he was egotistical and arrogant, but he considered those attributes an asset to what he did for his living.

His job? _Fooling the whole fucking world._

At the moment, he was traveling in an elevator. He loved the sensation of going upward both literally and financially. He knew the plan he had set in motion would fulfill his desire of owning what he wanted for so long: retribution.

He had hated that his daily existence revolved around a betrayal that was so many years in the past. But he soon got a charge out of the focus it brought him. When he made his life's work Donald Chambers' downfall, there was no reason for distraction. _Well,_ he mused as the elevator traveled upward, _perhaps a few well-meaning ones. But the intent never changes. Donald must come down. And everyone associated with him._

Copeland loathed Donald Chambers. It didn't change his feelings because Donald was dead; it just meant a feeling of triumph because he was bested. His hate stemmed from one of the basest sins: envy. Donald always had what he didn't: first, it was Donald's dead wife Marie, with whom Copeland himself had been in love, and then it was the woman he was going to see. The woman who was the mother of his children. The woman who Donald tried to take away from him…and failed. Yes, _triumph_ was the word.

The elevator stopped on the top floor. Copeland stepped out onto the buffed floor and took a delight in a quick glance at his reflection. He made it quick because not too far beyond the bank of elevators was a man standing at a door. They exchanged a slight nod and the burly man in all black let Copeland into a room with one occupant.

Her back was turned to him when he walked in. She had changed her hair color; it was back to its natural color now: black. Copeland admitted to himself that he liked it better than the auburn she had been sporting for the past few weeks.

The door closed and they were left alone. He spoke first.

"Donald Chambers is dead," Copeland told her. "If you haven't already heard."

She nodded. "I heard." She turned her head but didn't turn completely around. "I also heard they're trying to prove Mary Andrews did it."

"You have heard correctly." Copeland moved to the liquor cabinet, pulled out a snifter of brandy. He considered that his signature drink. "Too bad for her, though. I hear prison is an uncomfortable place."

"Some will never know that discomfort."

Copeland's lips curved upward at the ironic statement. "Indeed." He took a small sip of liquor and was rewarded with the reassuring taste of his favorite drink. "Have you spoken to Adrienne today, dear?"

"Adrienne came to see me this morning," she replied. "Not long after she got a call from Charlene Daniels about Donald's death." She turned away from the window. Her blue eyes were cool as ice. "Charlene was the unlucky person to discover him dead. Addy's with her now, trying to cheer her up."

"That's my girl," Copeland preened, not noticing the flicker in the woman's icy eyes. He placed the drink aside for a moment and walked to her. "So my dear. What is the next step in our plan?"

She brushed his arm but walked past him. That tugged at his gut. He loved it when she played elusive. _That was how we got Adrienne_, he thought, remembering an amorous night several years ago.

"We continue with our next target," she replied. Her back to him, she found herself looking at a picture of eldest daughter, who had inherited those piercing blue orbs. She looked so much like her aunt that she wondered if anyone noticed her. No, no one would notice until it was too late.

Horatio didn't hate smug suspects. Most people in his business realized that a man of Theodore Baxley's ilk was much more satisfying to crush than a trembling, fearful suspect who all but confesses the truth in the first breath. It was almost like he was asking for a conviction.

As Eric swabbed the inside of Theodore's mouth, Horatio stared at the young man with eerily focused eyes.

"If you're trying to intimidate me, it's not going to work," Theodore told Horatio.

An ironic smile tugged at the corner of Horatio's mouth. "Am I that transparent, Mr. Baxley?"

"Oh come on," Theodore said. "You don't think I don't know what you're doing here, do you? It's that age-old scare tactic. You're trying to scare me into admitting something I didn't do."

Eric and Horatio shared a meaningful glance but said nothing to each other. Horatio turned back to Theodore, now serious. It was at that moment that Theodore felt a glimmer of uncertainty. He tried not to let it show.

"Mr. Baxley, you may think whatever you want about our intentions for bringing you here," Horatio began. "Whatever the case, I am still going to ask you questions because that is my job."

"So then, ask away." Theodore straightened the cuffs out on his shirt in an impatient gesture. "And hurry up. I have to be somewhere soon."

Horatio's eyebrow quirked but he didn't deign to respond to that. "First, Mr. Baxley, I would like to know where you were this morning around seven a.m."

"I was with a friend," Theodore replied elusively.

"Uh-huh. Does this friend have a name?"

Theodore stared at him without blinking. "Charlene Daniels."

Horatio was mildly shocked, and Eric even paused a split second as he packed up his evidence kit. He remembered what Charlene had told him that morning and realized that had been hesitant to tell him with whom she had been because it meant admitting to cheating on her boyfriend—the guy that had picked her up from the crime scene that morning.

"So Charlene Daniels is your alibi for this morning," Horatio remarked.

"Yes," Theodore said slowly, as if he were talking to a child. "Charlene and I had drinks the night before at a bar then went back to her place for a nightcap. Would you like a blow-for-blow description of what happened next?"

"As much as I would like to waste two minutes, no," Horatio replied, making Theodore's face go red. With anger or embarrassment, he wasn't sure. But he continued, anyway. "But it seems that you knew Mr. Chambers, didn't you?"

"I knew him," Theodore answered in a stiff voice. "I didn't know him personally but I knew of him. We crossed paths sometimes."

"Did you cross paths with him after your father's death?"

Theodore went pale. He bounced back to the other extreme, as his hazel eyes darkened and his face reddened again. "How dare you insinuate—"

Horatio looked at him with an expression that could only described as mock innocence. "I wasn't insinuating anything, Mr. Baxley. I was just asking you about your relationship with Mr. Chambers. Unless…unless there is something you need to tell me…"

Theodore's face scrunched up in anger. "I don't have to tell you anything," he snapped. He climbed to his feet quickly. "This interview is over."

Theodore walked out angrily, leaving Horatio disappointed. He was really hoping to crush that jerk. At the moment, there was nothing he could do until he had more evidence. _In due time, _he thought, considering the next thing to do.

"So what do we do now, H?" Eric asked, echoing his inner voice.

Horatio considered the question a second before answering, "Follow him. I want to see where he goes."

Eric followed Theodore to a restaurant called Belvidere's. The décor was a bit French and Spanish to go along with the Miami backdrop and cohesive in a strange way. When he walked in, Theodore had his back to him but was sitting with a brunette—Charlene Daniels from this morning—and a young woman with black hair and piercing blue eyes.

The mysterious woman noticed him first. She excused herself from the table and Eric took a seat at the bar, trying to remain inconspicuous. Unfortunately, it didn't shift the woman's attention because moments later he sensed her near him.

She stared at him before speaking. "Are you looking for someone?"

"Maybe," Eric replied. He gestured toward Theodore and Charlene. "You friends with that guy?"

The woman slid onto the stool beside him. "Well, I know him. We're barely friends. Associates would be a better term for what we are."

"Tell me about him."

The woman was not at all ruffled by the request. "He's your typical rich guy. Thinks he's God's gift and that sort of thing. He's a mama's boy, in addition to all of his wonderful qualities." She tilted her head flirtatiously. "And here I am telling you about someone and you haven't told me one thing about yourself."

"Likewise," Eric countered, prompting a smile from her.

"Fine," she conceded. "My name is Adrienne, but my friends call me A.J."

"Nice to meet you A.J.," Eric said. "My name's Eric."

"Nice to meet you, Eric." She glanced around before her eyes rested on him again. "So I can safely assume you're here alone."

"Yes, I came alone." He glanced at Theodore and Charlene, who both now had their backs to him. "And you came with them."

"I was here with Charlene," A.J. explained. "She was feeling a bit bummed about her boss dying so I brought her here to cheer her up. Apparently, she liked the guy."

"Have you and Charlene been friends long?"

"Not long," A.J. admitted. "We met a few months ago at the mall. We bonded over hemlines, I suppose you could say."

As A.J. was impeccably dressed, Eric understood the bond. But A.J. continued, "There's this party tonight for his younger sister." She gestured toward Theodore. "Apparently she's getting married in a few months and the family wants to celebrate."

"What time tonight?"

"Eight o'clock." A.J.'s mouth curved. "And it just so happens that I don't have a date. I know we just met and all, but I would be really honored if you went with me."

Eric smiled and shook his head. "I couldn't. Besides, I'm not sure I would be welcome. I don't know the family." At least not a personal basis, he thought. He knew all sorts of things about them that only a background check revealed.

"Oh, don't worry about them," A.J. said. "You'll be my own personal guest."

Eric accepted, seeing it as an opportunity to watch the Baxley family in their natural habitat. He had the feeling that he was getting in way over his head, but squelched it.

Besides, how bad could it be?

_If only he had known then…_

At Irene Wolfe's house, things were quiet. Irene herself was sleeping upstairs with her youngest daughter. The triplets, Angelica, Angela, and Angelique, were on their way home from elementary school. Gretchen had offered to pick them up at school to allow her mother some sleep.

Danie, meanwhile, sat in the den of her mother's house with a shot of whiskey and anger smoldering in her heart.

"I think you're nuts, Danie," remarked Jennifer Dunne, Danie's blond-haired cousin. "You're not thinking of threatening her, are you? I mean, if what you think has any truth, then she wouldn't have any qualms about killing you."

Danie chuckled mirthlessly. "I can handle myself quite well, Jen," she assured her. "Must we rehash the late lights that inevitably led to kicking some guy in the crotch?"

"You are Jessica Thomas's sister indeed," Jennifer said. She winced a little as Danie downed the whiskey without a flinch and put the glass aside. "But this is different. Who knows what she has at her disposal?"

"I honestly don't give a shit," Danie snapped. "If she killed Donald because she can't let go of a grudge, then she needs a reality check."

"Danie, please don't be stupid," Jennifer pleaded. "If someone catches you—"

Danie trained dark eyes on her cousin. "No one is going to catch me. That's what going out at night is for."

Jennifer didn't get to admonish her further. The front door opened, and the sound of chattering filled the hallway. A few moments later, six-year-old Angelica Wolfe rushed into the living, happy to see her favorite big sister and cousin paying a visit.

"_Hermana!"_ she exclaimed. Danie placed her shot glass out of sight and braced herself as Angelica barreled into her at full speed. Danie heard her breath escape in a dull _oof_.

"Geez, do they do football instead of kickball now?" Danie groaned.

"How long have you been here?" Angelica demanded. "Mama said you weren't coming till tomorrow."

"I had some things to take care of so I came today," Danie explained.

"Oh. Well, then that means we can have a sleepover tonight. I just got a new bottle of nail polish and…" She paused at Danie's expression. "We can't have a sleepover?"

"No," Danie replied.

"And we won't get to watch _The Simple Life_?" Angelica asked, pouting.

Danie sighed, for she knew that her mother didn't like the show and neither did she herself. "Some other night, Gel," she promised. "Tonight," she said, ignoring Jennifer's wide-eyed look of surprise, "there is someone I need to see."


	10. In The Dark of the Night

**CHAPTER TEN**

The night was undoubtedly young. And so was she.

Danie only liked the guise of darkness because it was necessary for what she needed to do. If she had been stealthier, as stealthy as her big sister, she could have done this in broad daylight. But the effect of the shadows would have been lost in the daytime. And she didn't want that.

Dressed in all black from head to toe, Danie was unnoticeable. She darted along the shadows, her eyes on the inside. The gathering at Savannah Baxley's house was an engagement party for her eldest daughter Lynne. Women were clad in pastels and jewels, hanging on the arms of classily dressed men. Danie spied Lynne's fiancé and winced. Her own half-brother Derrick. _Talk about trying to get into the family…_

Danie knew the layout of the house well. She was the sort of person who liked memorizing floor plans. She didn't know why; she guessed it was some of Jessica's influence. She found her way to the backyard quickly and leaned on the railing.

Savannah was making her way through the party, shaking hands with guests and making party small talk. She glimpsed outside and saw a familiar stature silhouetted in the moonlight. Her heart stopped for a moment, and her smile froze in its place. The hesitation lasted for a split second, and no one noticed it. Savannah excused herself from a couple of her guests and walked outside.

After a moment, a familiar voice said, "I wondered how long it would take you to get out here."

Savannah turned toward the sound of the voice. A smirk twisted her features. "Well, you know I have to play hostess."

"And you make such a great hostess," Danie said sarcastically. "So tell me, Savannah," she added with a tilt of her head, "has anyone at this damn party sent any condolences to the Chambers family?"

Savannah straightened. "We needed a moment to celebrate life. My daughter is getting married."

"Whoop-dee do," Danie snapped. "Let's all crack open champagne and defile the memory of Donald Chambers by forgetting the fact that he was shot today."

"What are you trying to imply?" Savannah demanded, insulted.

"Other than the fact that you are a stone-cold bitch?"

Savannah's eyes narrowed. "Don't you dare call me names in my own home. You will regret it."

"Like Donald Chambers did?" Danie challenged.

"I don't know why you think I had something to do with his murder," Savannah said, wringing her hands. It reminded Danie of Lady Macbeth. "You should leave the questioning to trained professionals."

"There are things that trained professionals don't know, Savannah," Danie shot back. "Like how much of a good actress you are." She made a point of glancing at Savannah's hand then back into her furious gray eyes. "But unlike them, I can see right through you. You don't fool me. I know you had something to do with the fact that Donald Chambers is dead, and I intend to prove it."

Savannah opened her mouth to say something but then closed it abruptly. Danie watched her expectantly, waiting for a reaction. Before Savannah could say something, the door slid open, and a red-clad Charlene Daniels poked her head outside.

The words died on her lips when she saw Danie standing there. Her eyes darkened and narrowed, and she stepped out into the night.

"Well, if it isn't Danie," Charlene said with obvious disdain in her voice.

"I don't have time to be swapping sophomoric insults with you, Charlene," Danie snapped. "Unlike you, I have better things to do." She looked at Savannah. "I'll be watching you, Ms. Baxley. Remember that." She glanced back at the party and found that she saw a familiar face. She didn't let that show on her face as she switched her eyes back to Savannah and Charlene. "Have a good night."

With that, Danie disappeared into the darkness.

**_Meanwhile..._**

Inside, Eric danced with A.J. The band that Savannah had hired was playing a slow and sultry number. The bride-to-be was dipped by her fiancé while he spotted the other Baxley siblings, Thomas, Robin, and Ivy, dancing with their dates. Theodore was currently looking for his.

He had tried to keep his mind on the matter at hand. By the end of shift, nothing new had been revealed about Donald Chambers's killer, and Horatio had sent everyone home. After all, there was no point in pouring over evidence that led nowhere until something else came up. Not to mention they were unsuccessful in tracking down Chance Copeland. Eric knew that his boss hated to wait while a killer roamed the streets, but time was their only hope.

So far, he had learning nothing new. He knew how much of a jerk Theodore was and how many siblings he had. Eric had so far not gotten any indications that he had killed Donald Chambers. Yet, he thought.

If A.J. had noticed his wandering thoughts, he couldn't tell. At the moment, she was chattering about something. What had she been talking about?

"Don't you agree, Eric?"

Eric shook his head and tried to bring himself back to the inquisitive blue eyes staring up at him. He managed an apologetic smile for her and tried not to wince at the touch of annoyance in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I've been a horrible date to you. Maybe I shouldn't have come."

A.J. gazed at him worriedly. "Is there something on your mind?"

"It's just something at work I can't quite figure out," he admitted. He had only given her limited information about himself and had not told her about his job at the crime lab. He had only told her he worked for the government, but had not specified in what capacity.

"Would you like to talk about it? I'm a good listener."

"Actually, you're a better talker," he said jokingly.

A.J. laughed at that. "That I am," she admitted. She soon added more seriously, "Does this have to do with the questions you asked me about Theodore? I mean, I didn't want to pry, but…"

They shifted in their swaying to the slow music and Eric could see outside through the sliding glass doors that led out to the backyard. Eric found his eyes drifting back to it every now and again. It was not long before he noticed a flicker in the moonlight…

"I…" Eric began, but the words flew out of his head. He forgot what he was going to say because he saw something much more interesting. Savannah, the mother of the bride-to-be, was standing outside, her back to the party. It seemed that she was talking heatedly to someone in dark clothing.

His heart skipped a couple of beats when he recognized the person with whom Savannah was talking.

_Danie._

Hastily, to A.J., he said, "Um, I have to go. I…I had a nice time with you tonight, and it's nothing personal. But I have to take care of something."

A.J. insisted that he stay, but Eric wanted out. Before she could persuade him to stay, he was weaving his way through the crowd and out the doors, leaving the lulling music and expensive food behind.

He caught her on the edge of the lawn, trying to leave property. He called out her name but she didn't turn around. He figured it would be better to just run after her instead, and save the talking for when they were close enough to see each other's faces. He finally caught up with her in the street.

"What the hell are you doing, Danie?" Eric demanded.

"None of your business," Danie snapped, not bothering to turn around.

Frustrated, Eric reached out for her arm and grabbed it. He swung her around to face him, and she slapped him in response.

"Don't you dare touch me," she snapped. "I am not interfering with your investigation so leave me alone."

"The hell you aren't," Eric shot back. "Savannah Baxley could have you brought up on criminal trespassing—"

"She wouldn't dare. She wouldn't spar with me and my family again. She knows what'll happen, which is why I think she's behind this whole mess. She just wants to kill everyone dead instead of taking them to court. It's cleaner that way."

"Is that what you think?" Eric demanded. "That Savannah wants to kill people?"

"Damn right I do," Danie countered. "And I intend to prove it. That woman holds a grudge like another woman retains water. She's still smarting over the fact that my mother beat her when she tried to bleed Donald Chambers dry. She has a certain abhorrence for foreigners, if you hadn't noticed, and that's what we happen to be to her. So if you'll excuse me, I have to go."

She tried to walk away again, but Eric grabbed her and pulled her back.

"Not so fast. How the hell do you think you'll do that without interfering with my investigation?"

Danie took her arm back sharply. "I will think of something. In the meantime, have fun with your DNA and your ballistics reports. While you're staring at hair tags and blood spatters, I'm going to be finding the person who killed a good friend of mine before they kill again." She whirled around. "_Hasta nunca mas."_

Eric tried to catch up with her but she was too fast. Within a blink, she was gone.

**_Later..._**

Several minutes later, Eric met with Horatio in the lobby. He had discarded his blazer in the car, not feeling up to being dressed up any longer. Horatio raised an eyebrow at his veiled frustration.

"Thanks for meeting with me," Eric said with a heavy sigh. "I know you were at home and…"

"I take it Ms. Thomas wasn't very cooperative," Horatio remarked.

Eric nodded. He had told him about the party at the Baxley mansion and seeing Danie talking with Savannah Baxley. He had also added the fact that he had talked to Danie. "I think she would have taken my head off if she'd had the time." When Horatio said nothing to that, Eric went on. "She seriously thinks that Savannah Baxley has something to do with this. Apparently, there's a racial dimension to this, too."

"She's a smart woman," Horatio commented, "but she's going to endanger our investigation if she tries to solve this on her own."

"I know," Eric said. "But I don't know what to do about her. She could get herself killed in addition to messing up our case."

"Which is why I am going to have a little talk with her," Horatio said.

Before Eric could comment upon that plan of action, Calleigh came running into the room at that moment. "Horatio," she said, breathless. He looked at her while Eric frowned at her presence. "I wanted to come in and work on another case," she explained at Eric's questioning look.

"What's wrong, Calleigh?" Horatio asked.

"Dispatch just got a call on a B and E with a gunshot victim. It may be related to our case," she told them. "I caught it on the way down here."

"How so?" Horatio inquired, frowning.

"The caller said the victim's name was Charles Merrell."

**_Some minutes later..._**

The scene at Charles Merrell's getaway house hadn't yet been overwhelmed with police cars when Calleigh and Horatio arrived. It was untouched—and still held that slight element of danger. Knowing this, Horatio and Calleigh slipped from the Hummer quietly and drew their guns. The cops they had brought with them did the same.

The front door was wide open but the house was dark. Horatio announced their presence before going through, listening for loud noises.

Suddenly they heard a weak and feeble voice say, "Help me."

Calleigh and Horatio locked eyes for a moment. When the others made sure the downstairs area was clear, Calleigh strode purposefully into the room where Charles Merrell was lying on the floor, bleeding profusely from a wound to his left arm. She knelt down next to him and spoke in a soft voice. Sirens were heard in the distance.

"Everything's alright now, Mr. Merrell," Calleigh assured him. "The ambulance is on their way."

Bone ashen in the moonlight, Charles swallowed hard and gripped Calleigh's arm with his uninjured hand. "Please. Don't let anything horrible happen to her."

"Who, Mr. Merrell?" Calleigh demanded, trying to insert the right amount of gentleness and terseness in her voice to keep him alert but not to offend him. "Tell me who you mean."

"She came to save me," he rambled in a raspy voice. "She tried to protect me. Please don't let her die."

A chill went down Calleigh's back just as a gunshot pierced the air.

The EMTs came rushing into the room and Calleigh left them to do what they could for Charles. Calleigh rushed outside to find out what had happened.

Apparently, the gunshot had come from the beach. In the moonlight, she saw someone in black running from another person in black. The one being chased wore a mask, and the pursuer looked familiar. The police were running toward the chase, but they were still a long way away. Horatio led the police over the sand, gun in hand.

"Stop!" Horatio called out suddenly.

The pursuer paused for a brief second—long enough for the person she was chasing to pull out a gun. Another gunshot pierced the air, and the pursuer jerked backward violently. Her feet flew out from under her, and she fell to the sand.

As the officers ran to catch the masked person in black, Horatio stopped and knelt over the wounded Jessica Thomas. She stared at him with confused, unfocused aqua eyes.

"Caine," she managed. "You again. This…fucking hurts."

He forced a smile for her benefit. "Gunshots usually do." Horatio noticed as he pressed a handkerchief to the wound on her shoulder that Jessica's eyes were getting glassy. "Come on, Jessica. Stay with me."

"You…better catch…that bastard…" Jessica rasped. Her head lolled off to the side and her eyelids fluttered softly. "Shit…I can't stay awake…"

"Jessica?" Horatio turned her face toward him and searched her dazed eyes for signs of lucidity. "Jessica, speak to me. Stay with me."

But it was too late. Jessica's eyes rolled back in her head and she lost her grip on consciousness.


	11. A Hidden Passenger

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

It didn't take long before lights and noise blotted out the deadly calm. Charles Merrell was rushed to the hospital while Jessica was being stitched up in the back of a second ambulance. Eric and Ryan were also on scene, helping Calleigh process the inside of the house. Gretchen was there with her mother, who was talking with Tripp in brisk tones. Gretchen hoped to keep Tripp and her mother from killing each other.

Horatio stepped closer to the back of the ambulance and stared at Jessica with his penetrating blue eyes. "Jessica," he began, "this is quite a predicament we have here."

Jessica snorted. "Damn right it is. It's not every day you get shot in the shoulder." She hissed as the technician touched her arm. "Damn that stings. I'm wearing Kevlar from now on."

Horatio watched her carefully. He decided to take a different path with this slightly pale woman. "Jessica," he said again, "I don't have to tell you how suspicious this looks. The fact that you were here might look bad if the evidence tells us that you had anything to do with this."

It had been a sort of test, and Horatio expected Jessica's fiery reaction. Jessica tore away from the person who was examining her shoulder and strode to face Horatio. "Well, then, obviously one of us has a real vision problem because if you're referring to this, there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for my being here."

Horatio raised an eyebrow. "And now would be a good time for it."

Jessica glared at him, seething. "Don't you bully me, Caine."

"You haven't even begun to see me bully you, Ms. Thomas."

"Oh yeah? Well, sorry to inform you about your mistake in judgment, Lieutenant Caine, but _I do not get bullied._"

"There is," Horatio responded in a warning tone, "a first time for everything."

Jessica's eyes narrowed as she met Horatio's gaze. She opened her mouth to respond to that comment, but she noticed that everyone was staring. Throttling back a little, she gestured to the medical tech on scene to finish her up as Ryan gaped at an equally astonished Calleigh and Eric from the porch. Irene raised an eyebrow and Gretchen had trouble keeping her jaw from dropping.

"Look," Jessica began in a terse voice, "I don't have time to argue with you. This situation is disconcerting enough already."

"I agree," Horatio responded. "So explain how you ended up here."

After exhaling, Jessica began her narrative. "After you came to visit my office, I called Charles." When Horatio gave her a quizzical look, she added, "I had a hunch. I had the bad feeling that the same person might come after him. They are friends, and they are both very wealthy men." She swallowed hard, and her voice came out soft. "And they both mean something to me."

She resumed after a moment. "I was driving home from work when I decided to take a detour."

"You came here," Horatio guessed.

"I wanted to make sure Charles was alright," Jessica said. "When I got here, all the lights were off. And Charles was on the floor in his den—shot." Tears glittered in her eyes. "I called nine-one-one when I heard that the sonofabitch was still in the house. I started chasing after him."

"Are you so sure it was male?"

"He wore cologne," Jessica replied. "I could smell it on him, but I can't place the brand."

Horatio paused for a moment to take in the scene. Officers milled around, securing the scene. His CSIs were taking evidence and conferring over little pieces of the scene that would tell them something. Thinking about the information that he had dug up that afternoon, Horatio formed his next question.

"Did you know about the camping accident involving Merrell, Chambers, your dead father, and the late Jonathan Baxley?" Horatio inquired.

When Jessica looked at him, a startled gleam in her aqua eyes, he knew he had hacked through her armor. But she answered in an even tone. "Yes, I did."

The med tech working on Jessica suddenly shook her head. "Lieutenant, we have to take Ms. Thomas to the hospital. That bullet has to come out."

"I want that bullet," Horatio told her. With a pointed look at Jessica, he added, "And I _will _talk to you later, Ms. Thomas."

"It's a date," Jessica quipped wryly. "Don't forget to bring me some chocolate."

**_Later..._**

Ryan rode in his car, heading to his apartment with the music on low. He had just dropped off the evidence from the Merrell crime scene at the Crime Lab. After processing the hair and the blood drops, Ryan didn't get any closer to catching Charles Merrell's assailant as Jessica Thomas had, so he decided to go home and catch a few hours of sleep. His mind was working through images from the scene, the argument between Jessica and Horatio, Jessica's bloody arm. He tiredly wondered if Jessica had shot herself for a moment…but then recalled the angle of the shot; it would have been impossible for Jessica to have shot herself. Not to mention the fact that Horatio had said that someone else had shot her, the person that they hadn't been able to find. He mulled over that for a moment, going through the streets of Miami automatically, taking the route home he always took. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

So he wasn't expecting it when a head popped up suddenly from his back seat.

Ryan let out an oath and fought a swerve. He righted himself and tried to calm his thumping heart before it leaped out through his throat. He looked in the rearview mirror and found a pair of scared green eyes staring into his own shocked ones.

"I…I need to talk to you in private," Gretchen Thomas explained sheepishly.

"You scared the living daylights out of me," Ryan said, exhaling and trying to calm his heart back down from pounding.

"I'm sorry. I just…" Gretchen sighed. "Do you mind if I come up there? I promise I'll be careful."

Ryan hesitantly agreed, and Gretchen climbed into the passenger side seat.

"I don't see what you could possibly have to tell me," Ryan muttered, stopping at a stop light.

"It's about the camping trip," Gretchen responded. "I think this might help the case."

"The camping trip?" Ryan searched his tired brain, came up with a fuzzy remembrance of something Horatio had asked Jessica while on scene.

"_Did you know about the camping accident involving Merrell, Chambers, your dead father, and the late Jonathan Baxley?"_

"You know something about the trip your father took with Donald Chambers, Charles Merrell, and Jonathan Baxley?" Ryan inquired.

"I do," Gretchen answered. "The fact that they weren't alone."


	12. Nothing But the Truth

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

Ryan's apartment was testament to his orderly personality. The furniture was arranged in a methodical manner, and there wasn't a speck of dust or dirt on anything. There was an abundance of books on forensic science and science in general on shelves, ordered by subject. Gretchen picked one up and let it fall open. She was reading about the merits of fly larvae in murder cases when Ryan came in with an aspirin and a glass of water.

"I can see why this fascinates you," Gretchen remarked. "It seems very involving."

Ryan offered her the pill and the glass. She swallowed the pill with water, then thanked him. He was now out of the sand-colored jacket he had been wearing over a striped dress shirt.

"It is a very involving process," he admitted. "But I'm more interested in what you have to tell me about this camping trip."

Gretchen nodded. "If you need to get comfortable, you can. I don't mind." She gave him a reassuring smile when he looked at her dubiously. "I don't plan to run off with your valuables or get you maimed or hurt. I can be trusted to behave for ten minutes."

"It'll be less," Ryan promised after a moment before he disappeared. He reappeared in a white T-shirt and jeans in the guise of relaxation, but his eyes revealed his anxiety. Gretchen was still looking at the book when he reentered. The water in the glass was gone.

When she saw his gaze travel to the glass, she blushed a little. "I got a little thirsty waiting for you in the backseat."

"How long were you waiting?"

Gretchen shrugged. "A very long time. I actually dozed off for a little while, so I don't know how long." She suddenly frowned. "Will this compromise the investigation?"

Ryan took a seat on the couch. "I don't think so. Not if you point us in the right direction and don't withhold information."

Gretchen gave a slow nod. "Good. Do you mind if I take off my jacket?" Ryan gave his consent. Gretchen peeled off her black cotton hoodie and revealed a lime-green rib tank underneath. Ryan raised an eyebrow at her highly-toned arms but didn't say anything.

"What do you know about that camping trip?" Ryan asked, wanting to get to the point.

"Well," Gretchen began, "I remember it was a big deal for Jess. It was a chance for her to prove herself to all the men who meant something to her in her life. Especially Father because he didn't, if that makes any sense. She wanted to show him she could hold her own with a bunch of men."

"You have an older brother, right?" Gretchen affirmed this. "Why didn't he go?"

"Eric had a cold," Gretchen explained. "He was too sick to go, so Jessica offered to go in his place. She wanted the diversion."

Getting Gretchen's meaning, Ryan murmured, as if thinking aloud, "After she had been raped."

"Yeah." Gretchen sounded awed. "How…?" She shook her head. "Sorry. Dumb question." She cleared her throat. "Um, anyhow, Father agreed to let Jessica go. So they went, on a nice weekend in September before it got too cold at night." Her lower lip trembled a little. "When they came home a full day early…they…we found out Jonathan Baxley was dead."

"He was accidentally killed by a shot fired by Donald Chambers," Ryan stated, recalling the account from the police report.

"No," Gretchen said firmly. "He was murdered."

_Murdered. _There was a chill the word murdered brought to Ryan's blood. The way Gretchen said it, like she was certain. _Like it was true._

"Jonathan Baxley was murdered?" Ryan queried, incredulous.

"And Jessica witnessed it."

The statement broke through all of the assumptions he had made about the whole case. Before he could ask another question, Gretchen continued.

"No one else was around when it happened. I think Baxley had wandered off to look for firewood, but he was gone too long. Jess was the only one to notice. So she ventured out into woods until she heard voices. There were two people shouting at each other. One was Baxley. The other was a voice she didn't recognize. Before she could try to place it, Baxley was shot. The assailant fled before Jessica could see him."

"So why did they make up that whole story about Donald accidentally shooting him?"

"When the adults rushed to the scene, Jessica was standing over the body. Baxley's own gun was lying on the ground, and she checked it to see if it were warm, to see if it had been fired. They assumed she had shot him because her hand was on the gun when they came. But she didn't and because of previous events they didn't believe her. The cover-up had been Donald and Charles' idea. Jessica was confused at the time, so it was easy to persuade her to go along with the story. Matt, Josh, and Theodore were still around the fire. They heard the yelling and Matt, because he was the oldest of the three, ran to see what was going on. Theodore heard them shouting about his father and went anyway. He saw Charles comforting Jessica, Donald holding the gun and arguing with Father. The police came not long afterwards and they gave the fabricated story. They all agreed to leave the children out of it."

Ryan sat in silence for a long time, processing the information as he would a crime scene. Then he turned to Gretchen and told her, "We have to tell Horatio."

"Yeah, he needs to know," Gretchen agreed. "It can wait until morning, right?"

After a few moments of silent deliberation, Ryan nodded. "It can wait." Gretchen sighed with relief. "But in the meantime, I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Gretchen laughed, skeptical. "You're not letting me out of your sight?"

"You came to me with this information, and I want to make sure it gets to my boss. That means I need you alive until morning."

"I'll be fine on my own—" Gretchen began to insist.

"Do you honestly think this person would spare you your life knowing what you know? Probably not." Ryan rose, Gretchen's emerald green eyes appraising him with confusion and shock. "You can sleep on the couch if you like."

"Gee, thanks," Gretchen said sarcastically. "You know, this isn't the kind of chivalrous behavior I would think gets a man a lot of dates."

"I'm not trying to go out with you," Ryan said testily. "I'm trying to protect you. That doesn't mean you have to like me for doing my job."

Ryan walked to a closet and pulled out an extra pillow and a blanket for Gretchen. Gretchen stood and followed him. She stared at him, arms crossed over her chest until he closed the closet door and looked at her.

"What now?" he asked.

"I'm sorry," Gretchen said simply. "I didn't mean to sound so proud. I'm not used to a man being worried about my well-being—even if it is his job." She held out her arms for the blanket and pillow. "Thank you, Ryan." She accepted them from him. "Good night."

_**Meanwhile…**_

Adrienne Jacqueline Copeland held a slip of paper in between her fingers and sipped on white wine from a crystal glass as she lounged in her bedroom at her mother's. Normally she would be asleep at this hour, but her mind couldn't stop working.

She was thinking about Eric Delko.

Yes, being the daughter of Chance Copeland had taught her a few things. Like, for instance, how to play dumb and keep your mouth shut sometimes. Acting as if you hadn't heard what you'd just heard had brought her more information over the years than she could probably find through more honest channels.

She had found Eric's phone number through one of those less honest channels.

Not that she was expecting for him to call her. It would be a longshot; after all, they'd just met and some how had miraculously ended up on a hasty first date, from which he had run quickly. She knew why. There had been another woman in his mind.

So she was going to make the first move and call him first.


	13. The Realization

**To all of my readers:** Sorry this took so long to come! I realize that there are other things out there that are so much better and I appreciate your reviews. Keep reading! I enjoy your comments.

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

Ryan awoke the next morning to the smell of scrambled eggs and toast and the sound of idle singing.

_Chivalry is not quite beyond me_

_No, not yet_

_I could say he's like all the others_

_I'd lose the bet_

After dressing and showering, Ryan ventured toward the kitchen. Gretchen was standing at the stove, still in the clothes she had been wearing the night before. Her long hair was pulled back, and her face was flushed from the heat of the stove. When she turned and noticed him watching, she smiled apologetically and set some eggs with toast and a glass of orange juice in front of him.

"I hope you don't mind me making you something before…" She cleared her throat. "We go."

"Thanks." Gretchen turned to take the skillet off of the stove and went to the sink. As Ryan ate, thinking that the eggs weren't half bad, she cleaned and dried the skillet. He saw the anxious crease in her brow and offered, "If you want, I can just tell Horatio what you told me and you don't have to be involved."

Gretchen shook her head. "It wouldn't make any sense." She picked up the tea she had made herself and took a big, steaming gulp. "Lieutenant Caine is too shrewd for that. He'd wonder where you got it from and how long you'd known." She exhaled. "No, I'd better do it." She managed a weak smile. "But thanks for offering."

Ryan nodded, feeling a bit awkward. He gulped down the juice and glanced at his watch.

"We'd better get going," Ryan said. Gretchen nodded and finished the tea. As they were walking out the door, Ryan held the door open for her, and she gave him a grateful smile. He did the same when they got to the car. Sitting in the passenger side, she remembered the little song she'd been singing earlier and turned red.

_**Later…**_

When they reached the Crime Lab, Gretchen broke off from Ryan, citing that he had to call her mother and explain where she had been. As Gretchen stepped aside, Ryan spied Calleigh coming down the hallway. She perked up when she saw him.

"Hey Ryan," she greeted him. "Just get in?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Any news on the Chambers case?"

"The striations on the bullet from Jessica Thomas's shoulder matched the striations on the one I pulled from the wall at Donald Merrell's house and the one I got out of Charles Merrell this morning," Calleigh told him. "I've done a search, got no hits on the bullet yet. Charles Merrell is still in the hospital under critical condition. I just spoke to Josh Merrell's wife—who is a sweet woman, by the way—and they're not sure that he's going to make it through the day."

"Well, hopefully we're about to get a break in the case," Ryan remarked. He gestured to Gretchen calling her mother nearby.

Calleigh frowned as she spotted her. "What's Gretchen Thomas doing here?"

"She told me last night about the camping trip her father took with our newly deceased Donald Chambers, Charles Merrell, and the late Jonathan Baxley."

Calleigh paused thoughtfully. "Oh, I see. Jonathan Baxley is Theodore Baxley's father and Donald was the one who accidentally shot him."

"Uh uh," Ryan said, shaking his head. "According to Gretchen, her older sister Jessica along with Theodore, Matt Chambers and Josh Merrell _also_ went on the camping trip. And if the plot wasn't thick enough, it seems that Jessica witnessed Jonathan Baxley being murdered." When Calleigh's eyebrows shot up, Ryan explained what Gretchen had told him.

Calleigh exhaled after the explanation. "Wow," she said simply. "Well," she contended, "I suppose we have another suspect now."

"It might get us somewhere," Ryan murmured as Gretchen came over. She greeted Calleigh and then turned to Ryan.

"I called Mom and told her that I had something to take care of last night," Gretchen said. "She was a little shaken but once I explained, she understood."

"Where did you stay?" Calleigh inquired.

"She stayed with me," Ryan said abruptly, seeing all too well the direction this conversation could go into.

"Did you tell her you spent the night with a guy?" Calleigh asked, a little bit of mischief in her tone.

Gretchen's cheek pinkened and Ryan groaned. "Well…she might have assumed that…but I wasn't going to clear it up. Besides, I have other things on my mind." She looked to Ryan again. "But thanks again for letting me crash on your couch. I'm sorry I hid out in your car like that…"

Calleigh's eyebrows arched again but she didn't say anything. Before Ryan could respond to that, Horatio came up, looking at them curiously. Gretchen felt her heart give one huge thump.

"Um, good morning, Lieutenant Caine," Gretchen managed before Horatio could say anything. "C-could I talk to you?"

A little perplexed, Horatio replied, "Sure."

Horatio led Gretchen away and listened patiently as she told him an abbreviated version of what she had told Ryan. He nodded and considered the narrative as his mind worked. A few moments later, he was thanking Gretchen and thinking about making a phone call.

Several minutes later, as her sister walked down the hall to the interrogation room, Gretchen turned anxious eyes upon Ryan standing beside her in the observation room. He found her staring and met her gaze.

"You're doing the right thing," Ryan told her softly. Gretchen nodded and said nothing. "No really, you are. You probably just saved the lives of some people who mean a lot to you."

"I guess you're right," Gretchen agreed. "I mean, she wasn't going to tell anyone. If it saves her life, it'll be just as well." Under her breath, she murmured, "She's so stubborn."

Meanwhile, in the interrogation room, Jessica, with her injured arm in a sling, stared at Horatio suspiciously.

"I suppose I'm not here for bon-bons," Jessica retorted. "So let's get it out on the table, Caine. Just why am I here? Do you actually think that I would have anything to do with harming Charles?"

Horatio purposely let silence fall in-between them to make Jessica squirm and in order for him to figure out how he was going to conduct the interview. Jessica wasn't shaken a bit, so he decided to go for the direct route.

"Why didn't you tell me about what happened to Jonathan Baxley?" Horatio asked bluntly. Jessica went pale again as she did last night.

"Who told you?" she demanded, ashen. "That's not in the police report."

"That doesn't matter," Horatio said firmly.

"It does matter," Jessica snapped. "No one was supposed to tell. It was implicit that Josh, Matt, and I never be involved. They all agreed to protect us."

"It doesn't seem a coincidence to you that two of the men on that trip have been shot?" Horatio inquired.

Inside the observation room on the other side of the wall, Gretchen shook her head tearfully. Ryan looked at her, alarmed that she was about to do something stupid.

"I can't do this," she said. "I have to tell her."

"Gretchen—" Ryan began, but she was already pushing past him and out of the small room.

Swearing under his breath, he followed her. She burst into the room, surprising Horatio. Jessica climbed abruptly to her feet as the uniforms tried to push Gretchen from the room. Horatio shook his head and they let Gretchen go.

"What the hell are you doing here, Gretchen?" Jessica asked, voice low and dangerous.

"I'm sorry!" Gretchen sobbed. "I couldn't keep it inside, knowing what I knew about that camping trip and how it affected you. Did you think I wasn't old enough to hear you talking about it, Jessica? Did you?"

"But it wasn't your place to tell," Jessica said quietly. "It wasn't your place!"

"You weren't going to do it, so I had to do it." Gretchen walked forward and Horatio raised a hand to the officer who reached out for her. "I think you're in danger, Jess. Someone wants to hurt you and the people who were there with you. Didn't that occur to you?"

"Many times," Jessica replied, voice still low, "but that doesn't mean someone would go through all the trouble just to get back at me for something that was so many years in the past."

"It's not just you," Gretchen pointed out. "Donald was with you. So was Charles. And their sons."

"Josh and Matt are safe," Jessica countered. "And Theodore Baxley and his father were on that trip, too."

"Gretchen," Horatio began, starting to fully understand where Gretchen's reasoning placed her, "do you think someone wants revenge for the death of Jonathan Baxley?"

Gretchen nodded silently. Jessica shook her head in disbelief. Gretchen grabbed her tightly by the shoulders and shook her.

"Don't be blind!" Gretchen exclaimed. "It's too obvious not to notice. Someone could be out there right now, plotting to kill you and Josh and Matt…or carrying it out right now."

"Josh is in his office in broad daylight with other people around," Jessica said. "And Matt is with Mom and David. The only way they would be in danger is if the person got them at home…"

Suddenly Gretchen's emerald green eyes widened with realization and her grip loosened on Jessica's shoulders. Jessica blinked twice, and looked away for a second. She met her sister's gaze again for a moment while the room was bathed in silence. A split second later, Gretchen, with Jessica on her heels, pushed past Ryan, Horatio, and the two police officers standing in the room and rushed with amazing speed out of the building.

"What the—?" Ryan stammered.

"Follow them!" Horatio barked, taking out his cell phone.

When Ryan and Horatio made it outside, Jessica was getting behind the wheel and Gretchen was climbing into the passenger side of Jessica's Grand Cherokee. The two men hopped into the Hummer parked nearby and raced off after them. Horatio called for back-up to follow them and the civilian vehicle.

"What's going on, Horatio?" Ryan asked as he caught his breath.

"I think those two women are leading us to the next crime," Horatio replied. "The question is, what are we going to find when we get there?"

"And who."


	14. Angry Jessie

**PART TWO**

_A Few Good Women_

_I prefer women with a past. They're always so demmed amusing to talk to._

**--Oscar Wilde**

_There are dark shadows on the earth, but its lights are stronger in the contrast._

**--Charles Dickens**

_I am never afraid of what I know._

**--Anna Sewell**

_There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact._

**--Sir Arthur Conan Doyle**

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

Their destination was a large, two-story house a few miles from downtown. Horatio recognized the address as the one belonging to Charles Merrell's oldest son Josh. And his wife…

"Josh Merrell is most likely in the office taking care of what his father left behind," Horatio said aloud as he worked it out in his head. "So that means his wife is at home."

"And Claudia-Michelle Merrell is Jessica and Gretchen's sister," Ryan finished.

Dread pooled in their stomachs like liquid concrete as Horatio stopped the Hummer yards away from Jessica's Grand Cherokee. The driver's and passenger's side doors were open and the keys were still in the ignition.

Leaving Ryan to get the crime scene kit, Horatio ran to the house, hoping to diffuse whatever situation the Thomas sisters had gotten themselves into and preserve his crime scene—though the second was instinctive, and not consciously done. He was suddenly worried that someone was in the house waiting to do them harm.

Gretchen came out first, walking as if the burden of the world was on her shoulders—and a little too slow for Horatio's liking. A purple Chrysler Sebring convertible screeched to a halt behind the Hummer. Danie and a tall woman with an eerie resemblance to her got out of it. The woman was in a lab coat, and Danie was wearing a long black dress with her hair up in a stylish coif. Ryan got out of the Hummer and watched in shock while Horatio went running toward the house.

Then Jessica emerged. And Horatio stopped dead in his tracks.

Jessica was unharmed, but her red-rimmed eyes hinted at a deeper wound. A wound she would gladly seek revenge for. She held her younger sister in her arms despite the pain from her wounded arm.

Claudia-Michelle Merrell was covered in blood. And thirty weeks pregnant.

Danie screamed at Gretchen to tell her what she saw. Gretchen shook her head and leaned on the Hummer, hollow-eyed. The woman in the lab coat yelled at Ryan to give her a pair of gloves. When Ryan refused, and asked her what she was doing, the woman went running past him and to her older sister. Jessica placed Claudia-Michelle on the ground as backup, along with an ambulance, arrived. The woman dropped to her knees and examined her older sister.

"She has a pulse," the woman announced. "It's a slight one. She's quickly losing blood. We've got to get her to the hospital ASAP. She has a gunshot wound to the head along with other bruises and lacerations." She pursed her lips to keep them from trembling. "She might have a cracked skull."

Jessica stood and raked her bloody right hand through her hair. Her left shoulder still ached from the gunshot wound and carrying Claudia-Michelle. As EMTs came and whisked Claudia-Michelle away, Horatio went to Jessica, not sure what to say. He knew what it felt like to lose a sibling, and he hated for Jessica to have to endure that same pain. He didn't speak first because Jessica beat him to the punch.

"There wasn't anyone in there when we got here," Jessica said in a voice that indicated she was trying not to cry. "When we walked into the kitchen…" Jessica's fists balled up. "She was lying there on the floor. On her side, crawling in her own blood." Horatio saw her shoulders tremble. After a long moment, she turned. "I am going to find the sonofabitch who did this to my sister and I am going to cause him the pain he deserves."

Horatio took her by her uninjured shoulder, firmly but gently. "You leave that to me. I will take him down, Jessica. It's my job."

Jessica gazed at him levelly, at that stage of anger where everything became glaringly clear. Horatio could see it in her eyes.

"It's my job, too, Caine," she responded, and shook herself from his grasp.

_**Sometime later…**_

At the lab, Calleigh poked her head into a room and found Eric examining some items on the light table. He looked up from his work and saw the weary expression in her eyes.

"What's happened?" he asked.

"Claudia-Michelle Merrell, Josh Merrell's wife, has just been shot," Calleigh told him. She shook her head in disbelief. "I just talked to her this morning. She'd said she'd be going home to take care of her house while Josh went in to the office. She sounded so sad."

"Who found her?"

"Apparently, her sisters all had a premonition of some sort," Calleigh replied. "Horatio wants to go to the hospital to talk to Josh Merrell. He wants one of us to help Ryan process the crime scene and one to go to the hospital with him to process Jessica and Gretchen."

Thinking of someone he needed to talk to, Eric said, "I'll accompany H to the hospital."

Inwardly, Calleigh winced, thinking of processing the crime scene of a person she'd held a conversation with hours before. But she pushed it aside. She had work to do.

Calleigh and Eric left shortly thereafter. Calleigh drove.

A few moments into the ride, Eric's cell phone rang. "Delko," he answered.

Calleigh glanced at him and saw as his expression changed. A female, Calleigh thought, shaking her head in slight amusement. She tried not to listen in on the conversation, but obviously Delko had blown off the girl. They were going out later on that week to make amends. When the call ended, Calleigh stopped at a red light and raised an eyebrow.

"Hot date?" Calleigh asked.

"Something like that," Eric responded.

"With a hot girl?"

"Most definitely," Eric admitted.

"It sounds like you like each other." As they rounded a corner, Calleigh gave him another sidelong glance. "Be careful, though. With some girls, you never know."

He instantly thought of Danie and frowned. "If only you knew…"


	15. Angry Jessie, Again

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

Ryan remained at the Merrell house and processed the crime scene. Calleigh arrived and helped while Horatio went to the hospital to talk with Claudia-Michelle's husband. Eric accompanied him to talk to Danie and her mysterious fourth sister. And to collect the evidence that Jessica and Gretchen may unknowingly carry.

The woman in the lab coat was Moira-Selene Thomas, the second-oldest of the infamous Thomas quadruplets. Doctor Moira-Selene Thomas to be more exact. She didn't linger long after they arrived; she dove into the rescue efforts to save her sister and disappeared behind closed doors. So that left Danie and Eric alone.

Danie was still in the black dress she wore on scene. She had taken her hair down, however, and her eye make-up was gone from crying. Horatio spoke with Josh while Irene and Matt listened. Jessica seemed to be off in her own world. Gretchen was in a bathroom changing clothes with the supervision of a female officer.

Eric sat down in the empty chair beside Danie. Neither of them spoke for a while.

"Word travels fast," she murmured. Eric said nothing to that. "It seems to me that you would be out catching the person who did this."

"I am, in my own way," Eric told her. "Besides, I wanted to make sure that you were okay."

A sardonic smile started at one corner of Danie's mouth. "I find it hard to believe that you care for me after we've butted heads. Besides, you do have a reputation for being quite the playboy."

Eric chuckled humorlessly, but he was not shocked. "So you've been checking up on me."

"It doesn't take much. Just a little asking around, listening in to others' conversations." She exhaled. "I wanted to get a good sense of who I was dealing with. Who my sisters and I are dealing with."

"Is this what this is? Us against you?"

"No," Danie answered. "We're after the same thing. But we'll go after it for different reasons, in different ways."

Eric shifted slightly toward her. "What are you trying to tell me, Danie?"

Danie looked at him meaningfully with those keen violet eyes and said nothing. She turned to look at the information desk nearby before she spoke again. "I was on a photo shoot when I got this feeling. The feeling that you get when you know that someone you love is in trouble. And it was like…it was like being bombarded with an ice pick—sharp pains and prickly sensations. It wasn't the first time it happened, so I knew what it meant. I called Mom. She said Gretchen was safe, but Gretchen hadn't said where she was. Jessica was at work. So was Moira-Selene. And then, like lightning, it hit. It was Claud, and she was in trouble."

"So you, on a hunch—"

Danie shook her head vigorously. "This was not a hunch, Eric. It was something more palpable. More reliable. More foreboding."

"So you, on this feeling you got," Eric started again, "went to your sister's house because you thought she was in trouble."

"I got Moira first because she was having the same feeling, then I went to Claud's house. And your boss was there." She looked at him again. "And I knew I was right."

"I'm going to ask you a question, and you might not like it." Eric took Danie's arm and waited until he was sure he had her attention. "Have you and your sisters done anything that could have warranted this?"

"No, we have not," Danie snapped. He was right; she hadn't liked the question. "And damn you for thinking so. Whoever did this is cold-blooded and too rational to take a circuitous route for us. If we were wanted dead, we'd all be dead. Or close to it."

"I find that hard to believe," Eric admitted. Danie's lips twitched. "But I wish you would tell me what is going on here. I feel like there is something that I'm missing about the five of you. Especially after I found you skulking around in black the other night like some half-assed Catwoman."

Danie gave him a Sphinx-like smile that didn't quite meet her eyes. She ignored the Catwoman comment. "Actually, if you have that feeling, you know us quite well. Better than most." Then she sobered. "Eric, if we find who did this before you guys do, we have to go after him. Nothing you do will stop us."

"Don't be stupid, Danie."

"I should say the same for you."

The lack of talk among the group caught their attention and they ended their private conversation. Josh was standing wearily, thinking about a question Horatio had asked him. Jessica was pacing, and Matt was leaning up against the wall. Irene still sat in her chair.

And suddenly Jessica stopped. To swear.

"That motherfucking sonofabitch!" she hissed. "Gretchen was right. Theodore Baxley is behind this. It explains a whole hell of a lot of shit that wouldn't make sense otherwise."

Danie rose to her feet and drifted over as Horatio asked her to elaborate. Eric soon followed.

"Think about it, Caine," Jessica said. "Look at us standing here. Who do you _not _see out of the children on that god-forsaken trip?"

After a moment, Horatio nodded with comprehension. She, Matt, and Josh were good friends, which left Theodore out as Gretchen had already postulated. And under even more suspicion.

"The question is," Eric began, taking Gretchen's bagged clothes from the patrol officer, "how can we prove it?"

Josh shook his head wearily and finally took a seat. Silence again fell. Without a farewell, Jessica unexpectedly stalked away. She threw Danie her cell phone and Danie deftly caught it. As Horatio went after Jessica, Eric grabbed Danie by the arm.

"I think you'd better tell me what's going on," Eric said in a low tone that indicated that he wasn't up for an argument with her.

But Danie wasn't intimidated. "I plead the fifth," she said thickly. "Now, if you would excuse me"—she shook out of his grasp—"I have to get out of this dress. It's chafing me."

"And you're also going to be chafed by a pair of handcuffs if you continue to obstruct this investigation."

"Have I withheld evidence from you? Have I harbored a fugitive or any of that senseless bullshit? No, I haven't. So stop treating me like this. My sisters and I are not doing anything wrong."

Feeling anxious about the tension between Danie and Eric, Gretchen intervened and led Danie away. She looked apologetically at Eric.

"She's not going to budge," Matt commented wryly. "If there is one thing that is always true about those women, it's that they stick together."

**_Meanwhile..._**

When Horatio got outside, Jessica was gone. He wasn't surprised, so he decided to check up on the crime scene at the Merrell house.

"There was forced entry from the side door in the kitchen," Calleigh told him. "Claudia-Michelle was attacked in the living room and ended up in the kitchen. High-velocity splatter by the entry way to the kitchen from the hallway indicates she was shot in the head while on the ground. After she was shot, she crawled three feet to where Jessica and Gretchen found her. The skin under her nails belongs to an unknown male donor. It's not her husband, and it's not Matt Chambers."

"I think it's time we found Theodore Baxley again," Horatio remarked.

"I'll go with Tripp to pick him up," Calleigh told him.

"Oh, and Calleigh?"

"Yes?"

"Please do it now. Someone else might beat us to the punch, and I do mean that quite literally."

"We're on it," she promised. She would ask questions later.


	16. They Came, They Killed, They Vanished

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

Back at the Crime Lab sometime later, Ryan found himself looking at the photo that Alexx took of the mysterious bruise on the late Donald Chambers' chest in the layout room.

It had attracted his attention, and he didn't know why. He had a feeling that something was on the edge of his brain waiting to dislodge itself and rise to the surface. But what was it?

Ryan flicked a glance over the Charles Merrell crime scene photos and the pictures of the Claudia-Michelle Merrell crime scene and didn't find anything similar. Sadly, Claudia-Michelle's assault was bloodier and the violence of the overturned chairs and upset knickknacks indicated a deep fury. Perhaps there the killer had made a mistake by not keeping a handle on emotion. But that bruise…

_It's another tangible link to a murder suspect,_ he mused. _Other than the hairs that transferred onto Jessica Thomas's clothes and the skin cells under Claudia-Michelle's nails, we've got nothing else._ He glanced at his watch. _DNA_ _should be processing those hairs now. They'll probably match Theodore Baxley like they did the skin. _

But he wanted to linger here a bit so he could think it through. Idly, he mentally measured the approximate distance between the darkest points of the bruise. Mere centimeters. Fingertips apart. _Like a ring,_ he thought.

A ring. He brought up images of the people he talked to. Gretchen and Jessica wore no rings. Danie wore one on her thumb, but it was a simple silver band. Irene had her wedding ring, but the measurements couldn't possibly be as large as these. And then he remembered the queen of gaudiness, the mistress of drama.

Mary Andrews.

Heart racing, he flipped out his cell phone and dialed a familiar number. It didn't take long before someone answered. "Calleigh? It's Ryan."

He could hear the frown in her voice. "Hey Ryan. What's going on?"

Ryan heard the background noise of an engine running and other passing cars. "Where are you headed?"

"We're going to pick up Theodore Baxley," she told him. "Horatio's on to something and it may be time to bring him in again. Not to mention we've got his DNA placing him at the scene already."

"I think you need to find Mary Andrews, too," Ryan said, as that little piece of information that was out of his reach slowly began to dawn upon him. "She was there when Donald Chambers was killed."

"How do you figure?" Calleigh asked.

"I was looking at the pictures of Chambers' body, and there is this strange bruise on his chest. Mary was wearing a ring that would make these exact impressions. Custom design. Of course, we'll have to do a visual comparison and get some measurements when she comes in to be completely sure. I don't know why I didn't think of it earlier."

"Don't worry so much about it. The point is, you thought of it now, and that probable cause to bring her in."

"Good," Ryan murmured. "I'm going down to DNA to see what we got on the hairs. Be careful."

They exchanged goodbyes and Ryan packed up the evidence and put it away before paying Maxine a visit in DNA.

She had some good news for him.

"There were some tags on the hairs you brought in," she told him. "I compared them to Theodore Baxley's DNA like you asked." She handed him the folder and he opened it. Looked at the one sheet. "Perfect match."

"We can bring him in now," Ryan said aloud, feeling a bit of cautious relief. "Thanks, Valera." With this new information, he called Dispatch and put out an all-points on Theodore Baxley.

At the Baxley house, the windows were dark, and the air was still. Too still. Calleigh and Tripp shared a glance as the back-up units behind them got out of the patrol cars with their hands near their weapons.

"You think they skipped?" Calleigh asked Tripp.

"Like a couple of elementary school girls," Tripp responded wryly. They walked up the porch together, and Calleigh rang the doorbell. When no one answered, she called out, "Miami-Dade Police Department. Anyone home?"

Silence, still. Calleigh nodded at the uniforms and they broke through the door.

Like the house Charles Merrell had been trying to rest in the other evening, the Baxley house was eerily tranquil. Calleigh couldn't hear any music, no TV or voices. All she heard was the deafening silence of the lack of life. She had a bad feeling they were about to stumble upon a dead body.

Her gut instinct was proved right in the living room.

Like the kitchen at the Merrell house where there were signs of major upheaval, the living room appeared as if a storm had raged through it. Or a killer's violent temper.

The glass-topped coffee table was turned over, the glass in large shards on the floor. And on top of the shards was the prone body of a brunette, face-down. Behind Calleigh, Tripp cursed under his breath and the uniforms fanned out to make sure no one else was in the house.

"Call the ME," said Calleigh as she bent down over the body. No pulse. "We've got another one."

Horatio and Alexx arrived on-scene at the same time. Uniforms were talking to the neighbors who happened to be just getting home from work, getting statements. Tripp met them at the edge of the lawn and gave them a lowdown on the situation inside.

"Unidentified female vic, looks like she's over forty," Tripp told Horatio and Alexx. "Found in the living room, facedown. Calleigh's sweeping the room. Eric's upstairs looking through the rooms but it's pretty clear nobody's home. It's probable Baxley and his mama have skipped town. Probably felt the heat coming down on them."

"Has the canvass come up with any information on when they left?" Horatio inquired.

"So far, no one has reported hearing anything. Then again, most of these people are just getting home from work."

They entered the house, and Horatio caught the scent of too much blood spilt. Tripp led them to the living room as Eric was coming down the stairs from the second floor. His expression looked grim.

"What did you find, Eric?" Horatio asked.

"Nothing," Eric replied. "Not a damn thing. All the safes are cleaned out, no money, no papers. But I did get some hairs from the occupied bedrooms to take back to the lab. I'm guessing they knew we were coming or anticipated it pretty damn well. There's already an all-points out on Theodore so we might catch him."

"Add his mother to that bulletin," Horatio told Eric. "Was there evidence of anyone else living here other than Theodore and his mother?"

"There are extra rooms but they haven't been lived in. Guest bedrooms, I guess. The other children have their own apartments; Robin and Ivy, the youngest daughters, live on campus at school."

"They need to be contacted. Could you work on that for me?"

"I'm on it, H." With that, Eric left.

Calleigh was taking pictures of the body, stepping gingerly around broken glass. Alexx dutifully went to the body and started her on-scene examination, pulling on her gloves on the way.

Even after the first glance, she shook her head wearily. "She took a really good beating," Alexx observed. "Just look at all these bruises. Whoever did this knew her and wanted to cause her a lot of pain. This is too violent for a random attack."

"I wouldn't put this kind of thing past Theodore Baxley," Calleigh commented, snapping a photo of the blood-streaked right hand to get the defensive wounds. There was a ring there. Something jiggled in her belly.

"Let's turn her around," Alexx said. She and Calleigh carefully rolled the victim onto her back. Even though the face was marred by cuts from the glass, the face was familiar. Calleigh pursed her lips together.

"It's Mary Andrews," Calleigh informed Horatio, Alexx, and Tripp. "I guess Ryan was right."

"Ryan?" Horatio's eyebrows furrowed. "What was he right about?"

"He was looking at the photo taken of the bruise on Chambers' chest and figured out the strange dark spots could be from a ring. He suggested that the ring was from Mary Andrews."

Both Horatio and Alexx looked down at Mary's right hand where the gaudy diamond ring twinkled. They both imagined the bruise, imagined Mary hitting Chambers in the chest. As Horatio straightened and dialed a number, Alexx checked the liver temperature.

"She's been dead less than an hour," Alexx announced. "Cause of death looks like a gunshot wound to the back of the head. Overkill, considering the rapid blood loss would have killed her within minutes."

"Ryan? It's Horatio," Horatio was saying. "We need your assistance at a crime scene. But first, I need you to make a phone call for me…"

At the hospital, things were calm with the similar kind of deathly pall hanging over everyone's heads. In the waiting area, members of the Thomas/Wolfe/Merrell family sat in silence, watching the clock, holding hands, drinking coffee.

Claudia-Michelle was still in surgery at that moment. Moira-Selene had yet to come and give them an update on her condition. Josh sat close to the door, eyes bloodshot and tired. Irene had her head on her husband's shoulder. Her sister Rebecca sat on the other side of her with Jennifer, her own daughter.

Gretchen's cell phone went off. Frowning at the name that appeared on her LCD screen, she sucked in a deep breath and rose. She answered the phone when she was out of the waiting area and out of earshot. "Hello?"

"Gretchen? It's Ryan Wolfe."

Her heart skipped a bit, but not in a mushy romantic way. It was out of fear, apprehension. "What's going on?"

"I usually don't do this, but I thought you'd might like to know before you heard it on the radio or on the news."

Gretchen tensed and sat up straighter. "What happened, Ryan?" she wanted to know. "Whatever it is, you need to tell me right now. Please—just spit it out."

"Mary Andrews was just found at the Baxley house," Ryan replied. "She was beaten, then shot fatally. We're looking for Theodore Baxley and his mother right now."

"Do you think he'd try to come after us next?"

"I don't want to rule it out as a possibility. That's why we're putting a patrol car outside your house. Please try to limit going out until we find him. We don't want another murder."

"Easier said than done." She found herself looking at a picture taken last Christmas. Lina, David, Irene, and Jessica. "Jessica's gone. We don't know where she is. She left the hospital suddenly without telling us where she was going. I think she's going after Theodore, too."

She heard Ryan sigh wearily on the other end. "Do you think she might have come to the Baxley house?"

"Maybe, but she might have figured that he wouldn't be at his mother's house. It's such an obvious place to be, you know? So she might be somewhere trying to figure out where he might be right now."

"Whatever the case, you need to find her. She could be a suspect in the murder of Mary Andrews if she came to the Baxley residence."

Gretchen sighed. _Mom's not going to be happy with this,_ she thought, picturing her mother sitting at the waiting room at the hospital. "I understand." Before she said goodbye, she added, "Please be careful, Ryan. He might try to hurt you all at the crime lab for figuring out what he did so quickly."

"I'll be fine," Ryan promised. "Just worry about your family right now, and concentrate on your older sister and her son."

"Thank you for warning us, Ryan. I really appreciate your thoughtfulness."

They exchanged goodbyes, then Gretchen put down the phone, eyes troubled. She took a moment to compose herself before presenting herself before her family and friends. Jennifer and Danie looked at her inquisitively.

"What's wrong?" Jennifer asked.

"Mary Andrews is dead," she told them. "They found her at the Baxley house."

The silence that followed was deep. Irene paled and reached out for David's hand. Rebecca shook her head sorrowfully. Jennifer looked like it was hard for her to breathe.

"Jessica," murmured Matt, eyes anxious.

As if it were willed by a higher power, the cell phone in Danie's lap sang. Danie jumped a bit. Jennifer nudged her. She answered it, aware that the focus was now on her.

"Hello?"

"He's gone under," said the voice on the other end. "I went to his apartment and he wasn't there. I've got one more lead to chase down before I hit my underground resources."

Danie exhaled, weary. "I think you'd better make a stop at the Miami-Dade Police Department first. Mary is dead. And since you're looking for him, they might think you killed her."

The shock was palpable on the other end. "Mary's dead?" A sigh. "Well, shit. That was definitely from left field." There was a pause. "I am going to find him, I promise. And then the Police Department can talk to me all they want. I'll be in touch."

Before Danie could say another word, the call ended.

"She didn't find him," Gretchen said.

Danie shook her head.

"Is she coming back?" Jennifer asked.

"Not now," Danie replied. Something on her mind, she straightened and stood. "I need a moment."

Worried that she could possibly lose another daughter, Irene shot to her feet. "_Mija…"_

"_Está bien_, Mama," Danie assured her gently before she left the room.


	17. Introducing the Tiger Squad

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

Sometime later, Eric returned to the crime lab with the evidence from the bedrooms at the Baxley house. He was planning on sending the hair he'd found on scene up to DNA for processing and follow some other leads, hoping that he would get out early enough to keep his date with A.J. However, he had not been expecting Daniella Thomas standing in front of the building waiting for him.

She straightened when she saw him. He came up to her and stopped. The air hummed with tension as the breeze ruffled Danie's raven hair.

"How's Claudia-Michelle?" he inquired, not knowing what else to say.

"She's still in surgery," Danie answered. "They had to perform a cesarean so her baby boy could have a shot at life. He's in the neonatal intensive care unit hooked up to machines and the like." Danie's fist clenched involuntarily. "Charles is in a coma and they're not sure if he's gonna wake up."

He didn't get to speak because she continued.

"Jessica called me," she said simply. "She didn't find him."

"I don't think she should be trying," Eric said sternly. "She should just stay out of it. And so should you."

Danie's eyes flashed. "You know, I didn't have to tell you Jessica called me. But I did. Can't you take that as a sign of goodwill and stop acting like you can tell me what to do just because you wear some silly metal badge?"

"Haven't you explored the possibility that Theodore Baxley could cause you some real harm?" Eric demanded, keeping his voice hushed. "He's out there on the run and no one knows where he is. He could be coming after you or your mother or your sisters next."

Danie sighed. "Eric, I understand your concern, but we can handle ourselves."

"Oh, like Claudia-Michelle did? Like Charles Merrell did? Like Mary Andrews and Donald Chambers did?" Danie looked away. "That's what I thought. You can't play around with your life like that. It doesn't work that way."

"Don't you think I know that?" Danie snapped. "I've seen someone try to dangle my life beyond my reach many times, and each time, after I wondered just what the hell it was I was doing, I realized that my life is my own. No one's gonna try and take it without my approval. I'll fight if I have to."

"You still need to be protected. You're a civilian, and a possible target. Don't argue with me on this."

Danie shook her head. "I am not a regular civilian, and you know it. You don't know why, but you know it."

"What are you talking about?"

Danie stepped closer to him, close enough for him to feel her breath on his ear. "Contact a Detective Willis at the Audbone Heights Police Department and ask him about the Tigers."

"What the hell—?"

"Just do it," Danie said, and started to walk past him. "And if he's not there, you can call Dawn Richardson-Cain in Gracia."

Eric grabbed her arm. "Don't waste my time, Danie."

"Time," she began, "is a very precious thing. So is life. Just do it," she repeated, leaving him to stare after her as she walked away.

Behind him, Horatio frowned thoughtfully. Hearing the whole exchange, he wondered what Danie had meant. As Eric turned and saw him, Horatio tried to search his brain for any mentioning of—what was it that Danie had said?—tigers.

"I'm guessing you overheard that," Eric said. "She's really stubborn, H. She doesn't realize that she could get killed."

"Or maybe she understands all too well," Horatio murmured. Clearing his throat, he told Eric, "Handle the evidence while I go make a few phone calls."

A few minutes later, after he missed Detective Michael Willis in Audbone Heights, Horatio was on the phone with Dawn Richardson-Cain with the Gracia Police Department. She had just recently been promoted to Lieutenant. Horatio soon got over the strangeness of calling someone else Lieutenant Cain. It also didn't take long for Horatio to pick up on the fact that she sounded like she had been expecting the call.

"You don't sound surprised to hear from me, Lieutenant Cain," Horatio remarked.

On the other end, Dawn sighed. "I've been keeping up with the news, Lieutenant. Those people down there are good friends of mine, particularly Matthew Chambers and Jessica Thomas. If I didn't have such a heavy caseload at the moment, I'd be down there myself." But then she took a second to steel herself and realized that she had to give him the facts, cop to cop. "I'm sure someone gave you my name, and I can think of a few people who would. You're calling me about the Tigers, aren't you?"

No beating around the bush for this round. "I am," Horatio admitted. "And call me Horatio."

"I'll tell you what I know, Lieutenant—ahem, Horatio. I'll also tell you what I think may be going on, from what I've read, stories I've heard. After that, the rest is up to you."

Horatio agreed, and she told him what she knew.

Apparently, his instincts had been right about Jessica. After her rape, she had bounced back, alright—so well that she had rounded up her little sisters and their cousins to create some female crime-fighting team. The Tiger Squad, they'd called themselves. They prowled the dark streets, trying to make the world a better place.

_I've always been a little afraid of the dark. Were you ever afraid of the dark, Detective Caine?_

And conquering fears. Many young women felt safer going out at night once the Tiger Squad began their reign, right under the noses and out of the grasp of the local law enforcement. Their work became the stuff of urban legends in Audbone Heights (Dawn had gone to school with Jessica, Matt, and Josh, she'd told him, and she had heard all of these stories).

"It wasn't long before the girls found themselves in the city," Dawn told him. "They'd grown up in Manhattan, in the thick of things. Moving to a suburb like Audbone Heights gave them a chance at a nice, quiet life, but the city had more allure. And there was also more going on there, of course."

"What happened in the city?" Horatio asked.

"A girl, I can't remember her name since it's been so long. She was about Jessica's age; Jessica was about eighteen, nineteen at the time." Dawn let out another sigh, the sigh of a weary cop imagining an innocent dead girl. "She was found beaten and sexually assaulted in an alley. She had been a prostitute—a very young one. I was in the academy when it was going on. Since she was a homeless runaway plucked off of the street, no one really cared."

Somehow, Horatio had a glimmer of memory. He remembered idle talk about the case more than the victim, and the lazy detective assigned to it. He'd had been assigned a brutal murder case at the time himself—one that would make him resign from the NYPD and lose his partner.

"Jessica heard and became angry. She pestered this homicide detective—can't remember his name—but he wasn't going to listen to a woman, let alone one that was barely an adult. So she got pissed off and did something very stupid—or very genius, depending on your point of view."

"She went undercover, didn't she?" Foolhardy, under the circumstances. She had been a young woman, barely into adulthood. But he wasn't surprised. She had the grit, the sheer will to do it, and the determination.

"Went deep," Dawn confirmed. "She took her cousins Cassandra Strattford and Samantha Dunne in with her. I believe Danie volunteered her help for cheap thrills. The others, I believe, got names of drug dealers and johns from friends and classmates and stayed out of the actual operation.

"These people were dealing in girls and drugs. It didn't take long for Jessica, playing a female john to Cassandra, Samantha, and Danie as call girls, to gain some power, and when she did, she went to Michael Willis, who now is with the AHPD, and asked for his help. He was an officer at the time, but you can be sure not long after they took down that ring, he got his detective shield.

"To make a long story short, Horatio, the girls dismantled the ring, though, there were a few leaks. Not everyone was caught, but enough people were caught to make a statement to the public, to the police. The girls were privately commended with their service and went on with their lives. Not long afterwards they ended up in Gracia doing similar work."

Horatio nodded, taking in the information. "Did they ever find anyone close to them involved in these activities?"

"Funny you should ask that. Very interesting in this case. The police discovered some familiar names during their perusal of the mountains of paperwork. They think Jonathan Baxley was involved with the prostitution ring on either side of it, but it could never be proven since he died a few years prior to its dismantling, not to mention his wife made sure that her lawyers squashed any attempts to bring that to the attention of the general populace. There was also communication between Baxley and a man named Chance Copeland but no one could ever determine what it was Copeland was up to. I've heard a few things over the years about Copeland, and none of them are good. It wouldn't surprise me if he had been involved twelve years ago."

Horatio thought of what Jessica had seen the night Baxley had been shot. How would she know Chance Copeland if she hadn't seen him before? "How much do you want to bet, Lieutenant Cain, that Copeland had something to do with the murder of Jonathan Baxley?"

Dawn chuckled. "If his hands ain't on it, Horatio Caine, I'd eat my shiny new lieutenant badge."

Several minutes later, Horatio met his team in a conference room for a little briefing.

They each had folders with the information Dawn had sent him through Gracia's new newborn data compilation, the Database of National Organizations and Groups For and Against Organized Crime. For short, she'd called it the DNO.

The entry for the Tiger Squad from the DNO was the first thing in the folder. Horatio allowed for Calleigh, Eric, Ryan, and Tripp to read the information before he spoke.

THE TIGER SQUAD  
MEMBER COUNT: 8  
RISK LEVEL: 4  
SKILL LEVEL: 9  
GROUP ACTIVITIES: CRIME FIGHTING, MOSTLY CRIMES AGAINST WOMEN  
YEARS OF ACTIVITY: UNKNOWN  
GROUP STATUS: UNKNOWN  
ESTABLISHED LEADER: JESSICA K.R. THOMAS  
ESTABLISHED MEMBERS: CASSANDRA K. STRATTFORD, SAMANTHA B. DUNNE,  
JENNIFER C. DUNNE, CLAUDIA-MICHELLE THOMAS, MOIRA-SELENE THOMAS,  
DANIELLA E.M. THOMAS, GRETCHEN A. THOMAS  
KNOWN MAJOR OPERATIONS: "OPERATION INNOCENCE," NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK  
PROSTITUTION AND DRUG RING, 1994  
"OPERATION CASANOVA," AUDBONE HEIGHTS, NEW YORK DATE RAPE RING, 1996  
"OPERATION HUSH," GRACIA, CALIFORNIA HUMAN TRAFFICKING RING, 1999  
UNNAMED OPERATION, MULTIPLE LOCATIONS RECOVERY OF KIDNAPPED MEMBER, 2001  
UNNAMED OPERATION, GRACIA, CALIFORNIA GRAND LARCENY AND EXTORTION RING, 2004  
OTHER NOTES: EVIDENCE OF OTHER CITIZENS INVOLVED IN OPERATIONS BUT NEVER  
PROVEN.   
NAMES ARE AS FOLLOWS:  
RYAN M. CHAMBERS, BENJAMIN J. ANDERSON-LEWIS, MELANIE R. SMITH, NICOLE L.   
SMITH, MIRANDA WILLARD, GILLIAN S. ESTES, EVANGELINE I.O. THOMAS, ERIC A.   
THOMAS, MEGAMI TAKUMI-HILL, MIYORI ARASHI, CHRISTOPHER H. PARKER,  
HEATH B. MALLONE, DANIEL A. HOLMES, MAXIMILLION Z. HARRIS, MAGDALENA C.   
MALLONE, MIDORI TSUKIMORI, A. WILLIAM CHANNING BLOOM, KAINE E. CORCORAN,  
ISIDORE CORCORAN, REEVE R. COOPER, CHRISTINE V. WILLOWS, DET. MICHAEL  
D. WILLIS

"Wow" was all Ryan could say, eyes filled with shock.

"Good God Almighty," muttered Tripp in disbelief. "It's like a whole cache of Wonder Women."

"No wonder they're ready to take matters into their own hands," Calleigh remarked. "I remember hearing something about Operation Casanova when I was in uniform. It made the news everywhere, and everyone was trying to figure out who pulled off such a thorough maneuver. But I don't think I ever heard their names mentioned."

"It seems that they operated on an undercover basis," Horatio explained. "Lieutenant Dawn Richardson-Cain from Gracia PD informed me that they were privately commended for Operation Innocence, but never credited for their efforts publicly. That means the work of the Tiger Squad is the talk of legend only. Many know they exist but can't prove it."

"So what does this have to do with our current case?" Eric asked. "I figure someone in the Baxley family shows up in these scenarios somewhere, or else Danie wouldn't have mentioned it to me."

"Jonathan Baxley was tied to Operation Innocence, but his involvement in the prostitution of young homeless girls was never proven but clearly alleged. His widow made sure that her husband's name was never sullied in the media. Theodore is mentioned in the unnamed operation from 2001. Apparently, Danie was kidnapped and held for several weeks by an unknown captor and Theodore tried to offer up the ransom for Danie but the girls refused it. However," he added after a moment, "Chance Copeland arises as a person of interest because his name is tied to not one operation but three. His name is tied to the elder Baxley in Innocence, to the younger Baxley in Danie Thomas's kidnapping, and strangely enough he was suspected to be involved in the extortion theme that bled Chambers Oil millions. Chambers soon got rid of him for his efforts."

Papers fluttered as they flipped through the next few pages. Outlines for each operation were given, telling actions taken to complete the operation and the targets. For Danie's kidnapping, though, the girls found themselves in an awkward position, one that could leave them exposed to media scrutiny. One such article nearly exposed the covert crime-fighting team. The pictures included with the text showed a battered Danie that made Eric wince.

"We need to find this Copeland character," Tripp remarked. "I wouldn't be surprised if he offed Mary Andrews or got Theodore Baxley to do it for him."

"Perhaps," Horatio mused aloud. "But I have a feeling that we'll understand more when we get Baxley and Copeland in interview. So Eric, Ryan—I want you to do a search on Copeland, see what kind of strings we can pull to bring him in. Calleigh, find Charlene Daniels. She was with Theodore Baxley the night Chambers was killed, and she might have a clue where he's hiding out. We know now from the evidence left on Mary Andrews that Theodore was involved with her death. He can't wheedle his way out of this one."

Gretchen, Jennifer, Danie, and Moira-Selene, along with Cassandra and Samantha, who had both just flown into Miami from Gracia, sat in the hospital's roof courtyard on the seventh floor. The others were still one floor down visiting with Claudia-Michelle, who was hanging on by a thread in a room in the intensive care unit.

In Jessica's absence, Danie controlled the meeting. She quickly told them about her conversation with Eric. In response, Samantha swore under her breath. Cassandra put her head in her hands.

"They were going to find out about it sooner or later," Danie reasoned. "I would have rather them find out from one of us than from someone else."

"So what are we going to do now?" Samantha demanded. "Miami-Dade's made us. Theodore and his mom are out for our blood. We are severely fucked over."

"Not necessarily. They can help us," Gretchen insisted. "They've got the manpower…"

"It didn't help six years ago," Samantha snapped. "I still say that jerk Baxley had something to do with Danie getting kidnapped."

"We're not worried about what happened six years ago, Sam," Jennifer supplied.

"Alright," Danie bellowed. Gretchen, Jennifer, and Samantha went quiet. "Look. We're in a strange situation. We've got the option of really getting into this on our own. We need to find Theodore and his mother, figure out who they'll be after next. Or we can join forces with Lieutenant Caine and his team."

"Like hell," spat Samantha.

"Listen, we know that Donald is dead, and Charles is fighting for his life. Josh is out because of Claudia-Michelle. There're Jessica and Matt left. And for all we know, we could be next."

"I wouldn't doubt it."

Danie turned and the others looked up. In the failing sunlight, a man wearing sunglasses and a dark suit stood in front of the door that led back into the hospital.

Gretchen's eyes went wide. She'd recognize that face anywhere. "Lieutenant Caine," she said breathlessly.

"Ladies," he greeted them simply. He stepped closer and Samantha stiffened. He stared at her for a moment but then switched his gaze to Moira-Selene in her medical scrubs and lab coat. "How's Claudia-Michelle?"

"She's still critical, but her vitals are good," Moira-Selene replied. "My nephew has yet to show any signs of improvement, but we've got hope." She walked past her younger sister and approached Horatio, stopping only a foot-and-a-half away from him. "You're here to see if we've heard from Jessica again."

"You are very shrewd, Moira-Selene," Horatio remarked. He gazed into her eyes. "Have you?"

She shook her head. "Since she gave Danie her cell phone, we can't track her location. That move was deliberate, I think."

"I know Jessica," Cassandra spoke up. "When she doesn't want to be found, she'll make sure that she isn't." The blonde rose to her feet, came over to where Moira-Selene was standing. "I don't know you or anything about you. But we're after the same thing. If you're willing to take our help, we'll take yours."

Horatio nodded, a question in his head. Then he turned to Cassandra, knowing that she was the oldest of the group, even older than Jessica. "Cassandra, is it?"

"Yes," Cassandra affirmed.

"Do you remember anything about a man named Chance Copeland from Operation Innocence?"

During the silence that followed the question, Cassandra's lips tightened, and she looked away for a moment. When her ice blue eyes shifted to Horatio's, they were filled with fury. Moira-Selene noticed and was perplexed.

"Cassandra—?" she started, a question in her voice. The others heard and came striding over.

"If that philandering sonofabitch has something to do with this, you had better tell me now," Cassandra said in a low, uncharacteristically angry tone. "Otherwise I can't be responsible for my actions."

"Um, Cass, you'd better explain." Samantha's voice sounded a bit anxious.

"Cassandra, just how are you connected to Chance Copeland?" Horatio queried, mind going on overdrive.

"He's not your father is he?" Gretchen blurted. Samantha went slightly green at that.

"I'd have to run a few times into a sharpened sword if that were true," Cassandra responded. "But no, he's not my father. It's much worse, though, because he is in the family."

Horatio spoke as the other women stood in shock. "Really? How so, Cassandra?"

"He's our uncle," Cassandra told him. "He's Cousin Evie's biological father."


	18. Can You Handle The Truth?

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

They gathered back in the waiting room. Danie told her stepfather to take his son-in-law for a walk, leaving Irene, Rebecca, and Matt in the room with the remaining members of the Tiger Squad and Horatio.

"What's going on?" Irene demanded, feeling anxious upon seeing Horatio among her girls. "Why is he here?"

As they discussed on the way down, Cassandra went to her aunts and kneeled in front of them. "Aunt Irene, Aunt Rebecca, we have to talk. About Evie."

"Evie?" asked Irene. "Is she…?"

"She's fine," Cassandra assured them. "For now." She took their hands. "We think she might be in danger. We need you to tell us what you know about Evie's father."

Irene tried to think, her brow wrinkled. "I don't know anything," she told Cassandra. "Maureen just came home pregnant, talking about changing her ways. She promised that she was going to settle down. She had disappeared for four years. We didn't hear a word from her." She shook her head. "What does this have to do with the investigation?"

Gretchen and Danie shared a glance. Danie won that battle of wills, so it was up to Gretchen to speak. "Mama," Gretchen began, "we have something to tell you about Evie's father."

Sickened, Cassandra turned and walked away. Trusting Gretchen or Moira-Selene to tell him if something important happened, Horatio followed her out of the waiting room. She was standing in the hallway, pacing and fists clenched. Horatio came up to her and placed a calming hand on her shoulder.

A moment later, the shouting began. Cassandra leaned up against the wall. Horatio's hand fell to his side. He disappeared for a moment but came back with a cup of coffee. She took it with a mumbled thanks. Even though the coffee was strong and black, she took a big gulp before speaking. Horatio just waited patiently until she did.

"At the end of Operation Innocence," Cassandra started, "I encountered Chance Copeland. He was in deep when I saw him, Horatio. He was doing cocaine, having innocent young girls do his dirty work for extra cash and drugs." She sighed and placed the coffee aside. "He made me almost as soon as he saw me. He said, 'It's your eyes. I've seen them too many times before.'"

Horatio frowned. "What was it about your eyes, Cassandra?"

"They're the same color as my aunts' eyes," she replied. "And since I figured that he wasn't talking about Aunt Irene or Aunt Rebecca, and my mother was dead, I could only deduce that he was talking about my aunt Maureen."

"I thought Maureen Thomas was dead," Horatio said.

"You and I both. By this time she'd probably been dead a few years. But the way Chance was spouting about, it sounded like she was still alive and kicking. He admitted—boasted more like—that he was the father of Aunt Maureen's kids." Cassandra shook her head. "Of course, I only thought he was hyped up on cocaine and hardly paid any attention to him. He was also babbling about some kind of holy trinity of his." Cassandra sobered. "But then he threatened to do Evie physical harm if I ever said anything." Cassandra's lip trembled and the tears spilled over onto her cheeks. "She was only a little girl. She lost her mother the same year Jonathan Baxley was killed." Cassandra took the tissue Horatio offered and wiped her eyes. "Not long after the bust went down, Chance disappeared. When he reappeared, it took me too long to remember him. By then, he had stolen millions out from under Donald's nose."

"But you got him then," Horatio reminded her. "Don't forget that."

"What good did it do? It didn't get rid of him because here we are today talking about it." She looked into Horatio's deep blue eyes. "He planned this. I know he did. I just wish I could figure out why or how. He didn't mention Baxley that night he made me, but that doesn't mean he didn't know him, work with him."

Before Horatio could say anything, his cell phone rang. He excused himself to answer the call and walked a little ways away.

"Caine."

"Horatio, it's Calleigh."

Horatio glanced back at Cassandra. She was crumbling up the paper coffee cup and throwing it away. "What have you got for me?"

"Charlene's gone. Can't find her anywhere. But I did manage to catch up with Lynne Baxley. Apparently, she was in the dark about her mother and brother's schemes. She told me that she last heard from them this morning. Savannah said that they had to go to California for an emergency business trip. Said she'd call in a couple of days."

"Odds are, if they go to California, they're going to go to Gracia," Horatio reasoned. "Contact Lieutenant Cain with the GPD and tell her Horatio Caine sent you. She definitely will be willing to help. How're Eric and Ryan doing on their search on Chance Copeland?"

"They've got a lot of data and a lot of possibilities about where he could be," Calleigh answered. "They're going over what they have right now, trying to get something a little more concrete."

"He'll be nearby, trust me. Tell Eric and Ryan it's possible that Copeland has children. If he does, try searching for the mother."

"On it, Horatio."

"Thanks, Calleigh. Keep me posted."

The call ended. Horatio turned to walk back to Cassandra, but she was gone. Apparently she had disappeared back into the waiting room while he was on the phone with Calleigh. He paused outside the door for a second, hand on the doorknob. Matt, though, came out before he could go in. Horatio took a good look at his face. It was red with fury.

"That sonofabitch killed my father, didn't he?" Matt growled. "He just couldn't take the motherfucking heat."

Horatio placed a hand on Matt's vibrating shoulder. "Calm down, Matt. You won't help anyone by losing your composure like this."

"I won't calm down!" Matt snapped. "Not until I have my hands around Copeland's murdering, thieving neck. Not until I see the life go out of his beady eyes and I take away his life like he did to my father!"

Horatio opened his mouth to speak but something strange occurred. A movement over Horatio's shoulder sobered Matt instantly. His mouth went slack, his eyes lost their fire. Mouth agape, he stepped around Horatio, and Horatio turned.

In all black, Jessica Kathleen Robyn Thomas was a forbidding figure. But there were tears in her dark aqua eyes that belied her strength.

"Matthew," she said simply. "No."

Wordlessly, they embraced. Horatio could only watch as the two of them shared their grief. He felt uncomfortable, but curiosity and empathy kept him from walking away. He needed to talk to Jessica.

"I want to hurt him," Matt whispered. "I wanna hurt him until he hurts just as much as I do."

"So do I," Jessica whispered back. "And we will, Matt. Just give me a little while. I'm gonna find him."

Sensing that Jessica was preparing to leave just as swiftly as she came, Horatio spoke up. "Jessica, I need to talk to you."

Jessica disentangled herself from Matt, dripping eyes downcast. She swiped at her eyes with her knuckles, then raised them to Horatio's steely gaze. There was a battle there, she mused. But she wasn't going to allow him to intimidate her into submission. She wouldn't be herself if she did.

"I haven't the time to chat, Caine," Jessica informed Horatio. "I have a man to track down."

"Your family has agreed to help the Miami-Dade Police Department apprehend Baxley, his mother, and Copeland," Horatio countered. "I think it would be best for you to come into the waiting room with us."

"I will come when I am ready. Right now, I have something to do." She turned to walk away.

"Sharing the work won't make you any less of a woman, Jessica."

Those words made her pause, but she didn't turn. "It's just something I have to do, Caine. Sorry, I can't stay."

For the second time that day, Horatio watched Jessica walk away. But he didn't bother to go after her. Strangely enough, he could understand her determination. He also knew that he wouldn't be able to stop her anyway. If he were in her shoes, he'd probably walking away in them right this moment, too.

Horatio was so distracted that he didn't notice a petite young woman with long black hair walk up. She wore a white screen tee with the very straightforward message, _You Are Not In My Future._ She looked around, the scratched her head, perplexed.

"Um," she began, the sound of her voice startling both Horatio and Matt, "the nurse wanted me to tell you that Claudia-Michelle's awake." She turned to Horatio. "Who are you?"

"Horatio Caine, ma'am," Horatio replied as Matt went inside to inform the others that Claudia-Michelle was conscious. "And you would be…"

"The one and only Nicole Smith," she replied. She punctuated this with a broad yawn. "Sorry, man. It was a long flight from Gracia."

"I can imagine. Friend of the family?"

Nicole's right eyebrow cocked. "You can say that…"

Irene came out into the hallway, looking like she'd recently been taken over by a storm of weeping. She walked up to her husband and Josh who were coming down the hallway. After a brief exchange, Irene and Josh went to go visit Claudia-Michelle. David sighed and went for coffee to help him stay awake while he made some phone calls. Rebecca ventured off to the bathroom. Horatio walked into the waiting room.

Cassandra came up to Horatio, sighing, too. "Aunt Irene is beside herself," Cassandra told him. "She didn't even know that her sister had consorted with such a man." She shook her head sorrowfully. "And after all Aunt Irene and Aunt Rebecca did to help Aunt Maureen…"

"Did your aunt know why her sister disappeared for so long and then reappeared?" Horatio wanted to know.

Nearby, Nicole snorted. "Shit. It's pretty obvious. Maureen was the rebel, the black sheep of the Tomas sisters. She wanted to get out from under her sisters' shadows. She wanted to be on her own in a world of her own." When she was sure she had everyone's attention, she continued.

"If she hooked up with Chance Copeland, it's pretty obvious what she was doing in those four years she was AWOL," Nicole reasoned. Cassandra looked dubious. "Get ya head on straight, guys. She was hooking."

_Pause._

"What?" breathed Jennifer.

"No shit?" inquired Samantha.

"No shit," responded Nicole.

"And how do you know this?" Danie crossed her arms over her chest. "You kinda came here _en medias res_. I find it hard to believe—"

"Look here woman, I talked to Dawn, alright? She did a deep-level search on Copeland, called some sources on the street in New York City. She called me during the layover in Houston. Apparently, one of her snitches said that they knew that Maureen spent some quality time with Copeland before Evie was born."

"That was twenty years ago," Danie countered. "How would someone remember Maureen and Copeland?"

"Oh, you would remember someone if they were selling a baby on the street," Nicole shot back. She shrugged. "I'd think. That's just me."

Everyone stared at her with their mouths open. _A baby?_

Cassandra broke the silence by saying to Horatio, "Um, maybe you should call your team with this."

**_At the lab..._**

Ryan snapped his phone closed, eyes wide.

Eric looked at him, confused. "What did Horatio have to say?"

Ryan let out a short breath, then went over to the nearest computer. "You are not going to believe this." He shook his head as if he were trying to shake the disbelief away. "Apparently, Copeland had a baby with Gretchen's dead aunt. They tried to sell the baby on the black market."

As Ryan typed in a name into a search engine, Eric came over. "Do we have the young woman's name?"

"Yes…we do." The results popped up on screen. "Chelsea Herron. Age twenty-one. Adoptive parents are deceased. Says here she lives here in Miami. She moved here from New York when she turned eighteen."

"Calleigh said that H told her Copeland had children," Eric said. "In the plural sense."

"How many are we looking for?"

Since they were both stumped, the question led them to call Horatio again.

"I'm thinking three," Horatio responded, when asked. "Cassandra mentioned something earlier about a holy trinity. Try looking for a third, at least. It could be that Copeland is into symbolism."

So they looked for a third. Instead of looking for Maureen Thomas as the mother, which had only yielded the entry on Evangeline Thomas, Ryan looked for Chance Copeland as the father while Eric tried to track down Chelsea Herron's home address and phone number.

He got one hit.

"I've got one," Ryan announced softly.

Eric wheeled himself over in the chair from the other computer while it was doing its search. "So what do we have here?"

When he saw the dossier, when it sunk in and he comprehended what this meant, his face went loose with shock.

_**Full Name:** Adrienne Jacqueline Copeland_

_**Age:** 23_

_**Date of Birth:** April 4_

_**Place of Birth:** Manhattan, New York_

_**Place of Residence:** Miami, Florida_

_**Hair:** Black_

_**Eyes:** Blue_

_**Height:** 5'7"_

_**Siblings:** None_

_**Parents:** Delia Maureen Copeland, mother; Chance Copeland, father_

_**Occupation:** Unknown_

_**Education:** High-school diploma from Carthage Academy_

"Lucky for us, she lives here in Miami," Ryan was saying as Eric remained in his stupefied shock. "We could probably get a number and an address."

Groaning and swearing under his breath, Eric took out his cell phone. Ryan noticed the movement and looked at him with questioning eyes.

"Too late," said Eric grimly. "One of us already has it."


	19. Family Matters

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

Within the hour, they had Adrienne Copeland stewing in an interrogation room. Ironically, it was the same room where Horatio had confronted Jessica about the camping trip earlier that day. This time, though, Danie had elbowed her way into observation. Or was trying to, anyway.

"I deserve to be here on behalf of my family," Danie argued as she tried to keep up with Eric's long strides. Not like it was hard or anything. She was nearly as tall as he was.

"You should really be at home right now," Eric shot back. "It's been a long day for you and your family. This is the last thing you need."

"Like it hasn't been for you." She glanced at her watch. It was a wonder she was wearing one. "It's—what—hour thirteen for you? Look," she went on when Eric didn't respond fast enough, "think of it this way. If something happens to me, at least there'll be police around to protect my crazy ass." She tried to smile for him, but it turned into a grimace.

Nearby, Calleigh shared a look with Horatio as Danie and Eric disappeared into the observation room.

"Do you think he'll be able to get her out of here?" Calleigh asked.

"Not a chance," Horatio remarked in a wry tone.

Calleigh shrugged and opened the door to walk inside the observation room. Inside, Danie was standing near the glass with her arms over her chest, looking very stubborn. Eric stood beside her looking stressed. Calleigh tried to suppress her smirk but Eric caught sight of it. It lifted his low spirits a little and warmed her heart to see he had some sense of humor.

Because they wanted a nice balance, Horatio went into the interrogation room with Ryan. Ryan, even though he was far from the newborn CSI he had been, was far less intimidating and forbidding than Horatio was and appeared to be. Horatio had reasoned that Adrienne would feel more comfortable in a room with two men rather than himself and Calleigh. And he hadn't wanted that other man to be Eric. Horatio hadn't wanted Adrienne to be _that_ comfortable.

Horatio allowed for Ryan to conduct the interview. After all, Ryan had spent the last few hours looking at the data, so it he knew it better. Ryan started off by asking Adrienne about her relationship to Theodore Baxley and his mother.

"They're friends of mine," Adrienne told Ryan. "I met Theodore through Charlene Daniels, since they're very close friends."

"What about Mary Andrews?"

"I saw her from time to time," Adrienne admitted. "She would be with Savannah mostly whenever I saw her. She was a bit…high-strung."

"I'm sure it hurt her deeply when Donald Chambers ended their relationship."

Adrienne shrugged. "She seemed more manic than usual afterwards, I guess. I was hardly paying any attention to what was going on with Ms. Andrews because I had other things going on at the time."

"Family matters?" Ryan asked.

Adrienne shifted in her chair, seeming uncomfortable. "What does my family have to do with this?"

Horatio stepped out of the shadows. "Ms. Copeland, we understand that your father had some business dealings with Savannah Baxley's late husband."

"I don't know anything about that," Adrienne insisted. "My father and I rarely talk, especially about what he does for his money."

"Have you seen him lately?" This time Ryan spoke.

"Not within the last two days, no. I've been busy with my interior design work. It keeps me running around all day and I have an active social life at night."

"Do you know where he is?"

Adrienne shook her head. Horatio came over and leaned over the table so that he was nice and close. She looked up at him, ice-blue eyes filled with a strange mix of insolence and fear.

"Ms. Copeland," Horatio began in a steely tone, "if you know where your father is, you need to let us know right now. Because if you walk out of this room with that knowledge and I find out that you did know, I will personally make your life a living hell." He leaned back, seeing something flicker in her eyes. "You know what you're here for. You're not a stupid woman, Ms. Copeland. So let's cut to the chase. Where are your father, Theodore Baxley and his mother hiding?"

Adrienne pursed her lips together. "I told you. I know nothing about this."

"You're his daughter," Ryan reasoned. "I find it hard to believe that you wouldn't know what your father's up to." Adrienne looked away, arms crossed over her chest. "Or maybe it's that you know someone who does and you don't want to tell us who that person is."

There was a pause. Horatio leaned forward again. He had a new question in mind.

"Adrienne," he began, injecting some softness in his tone, "where is your mother?"

In observation, Danie stiffened at the mere reference to her supposedly deceased aunt. She turned away from the one-way window and shook her head. Eric noticed this and placed a hand on her shoulder. Calleigh noticed but didn't say anything. Yet.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"Don't be sorry," Danie murmured back. "There's nothing you can do. Besides, it's already been done by someone else." She glared at the glass. "And the spawn of it is sitting in that damned chair."

In interrogation, Adrienne held her ground. "I can't tell you where my mother is." Ryan turned away, disgusted. "I will not betray her for you. She hasn't done anything wrong."

"It's possible she might be involved in the murders of Donald Chambers and Mary Andrews," Ryan argued. "Not to mention the attempted murders of Charles Merrell, Claudia-Michelle Thomas-Merrell, and Jessica Thomas. If you don't tell us where she is, or where your father is, you're an accessory to all of these crimes."

Adrienne pushed her chair back from the table and stood. "Then so be it. I won't rat my parents out just because you say so."

"You're making a mistake," Horatio warned her. "Your father could be involved in this. Do you want to be responsible for the death of Charles Merrell, who is now in a coma at Miami General—the same hospital where his daughter-in-law and grandson are both hooked up to machines because someone put a bullet in her head while she was eight months pregnant?"

Adrienne's lower lip trembled. Her knees buckled under her and she collapsed into her seat.

"You have two choices," Horatio told her. "I can have you booked and put in a cell, which I know you will not like. Or you can tell me where your parents are."

A long moment passed as Adrienne wept. Calleigh, Eric, and Danie watched as she broke down even further—and told Ryan and Horatio what they wanted to hear.

It wasn't why or how, but where. Good enough for the moment.

"The others have to know this," Danie said breathlessly as Adrienne gave a location. "We have to move tonight—"

"Cool your jets, Danie," Eric said. "You can't be involved with this. You're just civilians."

Danie groaned. "Don't start this shit again."

"I am starting this shit again. We've been through this enough, Danie. You can't come along on this. It's our investigation. You're coming dangerously close to obstructing justice again."

"Aw hell," Danie spat. "Slap me in handcuffs and call me Bonnie."

"Maybe I will. And while I'm at it, I can put you in a holding cell, too, just for kicks."

Violet eyes hot, Danie looked around Eric to try to appeal to Calleigh. "Could you knock some sense into him?"

Knowing it would only cause her grief to plant herself on either side of the argument, Calleigh silently put up her palms in a gesture of avoidance and turned to leave the room as Horatio strode out of the interrogation room and uniforms moved to escort Adrienne out.

Danie stormed out of observation as Calleigh met with Ryan outside of the interrogation room. Eric followed her as she said something about getting Horatio to allow for her to come along.

In the end, Horatio told her to go home and wait for him or Eric to call her. Danie grumbled, but obliged. She left them to plan.

It was quite unfortunate, after all their hard work, that no one was there.

**_Later..._**

Close to midnight, Eric came home exhausted. He had been up for eighteen hours, and all he could think about was his fluffy pillow and newly laundered sheets. They would be heaven right now.

Sadly, fate would not let him rest easy.

He groaned when he saw the familiar shadow in the moonlight. She was leaning up against the wall near his door, waiting for him. She had her thumbs hooked in the belt loops of her jeans and her long raven hair was in a ponytail.

"I assume, since I didn't get a triumphant call from Horatio telling me that you caught her, that she wasn't there," Danie commented.

"No," Eric affirmed tiredly, "she wasn't. But we've got what she left behind." He walked to his door, keys in hand. He stuck the key into the lock. "Are you here to gloat, Danie?"

Her lips curved but there was no mirth in it. "As much as I would like that, no. I can't. Murderers are still on the loose, and it's no joking matter for me." She looked down at the doorknob as Eric unlocked his front door before she raised her eyes to his face. "I've been thinking, and I know you're going to give me a tongue lashing for being on my own unattended, but I just had to take a walk. Sort some things out in my head."

"Like what?" Eric paused and didn't open the door yet.

"Like you and me."

Eric found himself chuckling. "Oh no. Not this talk." Danie punched him in the shoulder, and he winced. "Damn." He rubbed his right arm. "Are you sure you're female?"

"Just shut up and open the damn door. I would like to sit on something that is man-made and preferably leather or suede."

A few minutes later, Danie was sitting on Eric's couch (it was neither leather nor suede, but Danie said she'd live). She watched as he sorted his mail and checked his phone messages. She was shrewd enough to note that most of his messages were from females. It amused her greatly.

"A popular man, aren't you?"

"It's never good to break bread alone," Eric remarked. Tired, he walked over the couch where he could sit. He reclined his head and closed his eyes.

Danie raised an eyebrow. "Are you about to fall asleep on me, Delko?"

"No, I'm listening," he assured her. "Just resting my eyes. But if you don't tell me what it was you were thinking about quick, I just might."

She sighed then and shifted toward him. "This is weird for me, Eric. I've never met a guy like you before, you know? Most of the time, they think I'm untouchable, so they treat me with kid gloves. Or they're assholes and they try to control me." When Eric said nothing, she shook her head. "Fine. Getting to the point."

"Good. I was going off to La-La Land."

"As much as I hate to admit this, knowing that you'll never let me live it down, I have to say that I actually…"

Eric squinted one eye open.

"Like you."

He snorted at that. "You really should go on the road with that."

Danie's eyes flashed with indignation. "How in the world can you tell me how I feel and you don't know my emotions?"

"Because you're just reacting to the novelty of some random guy treating you differently than everybody else. It doesn't mean anything."

Danie fumed. "That's not true. I'm also—"

Eric's other eye opened as Danie fought a blush. "Also what?"

Danie shrugged. "Nothing." She paused a moment. "So tell me this. Can you can truthfully say that you're not attracted to me?"

"Danie," Eric responded, "every man who sees you is attracted to you. I'm sure of it."

Danie raised an eyebrow again. "Uh huh. You trying to tell me something?"

"I'm just trying to tell you the truth."

"You'd tell me anything if you've been up for eighteen hours."

Eric yawned. "Danie, if you want to sleep with me, just say so."

Danie blinked rapidly for a long moment. She hadn't been expecting him to be so direct. Or assume something like that. "Why do you think I want to sleep with you?" she asked in a quiet voice. "If I wanted to sleep with you, I would have."

"Oh, without my consent? It takes two to tango, Danie."

"I like to think of it in terms of a leader and a follower," Danie said stiffly. "I like to lead when I want. And men often like to let me." She lifted her chin. "Do you want to sleep with me?"

Already counting sheep, Eric murmured, "Whatever you want, Danie."

Sighing, Danie rested her head beside Eric's and closed her eyes. In the end, they both fell asleep on the couch. While the arrangement complicated their relationship, it protected Danie in a way she never would have guessed.

Because somewhere some miles away, Charlene Daniels stared her assailant in the face and took her last gasping, bloody breath before her life was extinguished with a single gunshot to the head.

**_At the lab..._**

The next morning, Horatio came into work and got some strange news.

After the unsuccessful visit to the residence that supposedly belonged to Adrienne Copeland's mother, Horatio grilled Adrienne but she revealed nothing else. Apparently, her mother wasn't completely forthcoming about certain aspects of her life. After taking some evidence from the house and tucking Adrienne in an undisclosed location, Horatio dismissed his team for the night.

Calleigh came up to him, green eyes bright like she'd just won the Publisher's Clearinghouse Sweepstakes despite the fact that she'd put in close to sixteen hours the previous day. A file folder was in her hand.

"Morning, Calleigh," he greeted her as she fell into stride with him.

"Morning, Horatio," Calleigh greeted him back. "Got some news for you. It's about Mary Andrews."

"What's going on with Mary Andrews?"

"The evidence on-scene indicates that Theodore Baxley didn't kill her," Calleigh responded. "And—get ready for this shocker—the hair found on her belongs to an unknown male donor. We got a confirmation on the ring she wore as the cause of the strange bruise on Chambers. Measurements match."

"Did we find any DNA in the ring?" Horatio asked.

Calleigh handed him the folder. "The numbers speak for themselves."

Horatio took a moment to peer at the printout. His eyebrows lifted. "Donald Chambers and your unidentified male. How interesting…"

"So Mary got some licks in," Calleigh commented. "Worked in our favor. So all we have to do is figure out who the mysterious male is."

"I've got a feeling it's Chance Copeland," Horatio murmured. "But I'm sure you already knew that."

"Won't know for sure until we get his DNA."

"Always good to have proof." He glanced at his watch. "And we will have it soon enough."

At that moment, Ryan came running up. His eyes were bright, too, despite a night of little sleep. He had two folders instead of one.

"Morning, Ryan," Calleigh greeted the short-haired CSI. "Whatcha got in the folder?"

"Phone records," Ryan replied. "Chance Copeland put in a lot of calls to Savannah Baxley's cell phone over the past few weeks. But get this: Adrienne's mother also made some interesting phone calls herself." He handed Horatio the folder. "Flip to the third page. That's where the listing for the phone calls made by the phone registered to Delia Copeland begins."

"Well." Horatio peered down the page. "No less than six calls to the deceased Donald Chambers."

"So Donald Chambers knew that Maureen Thomas was alive?" Calleigh asked. She shook her head. "Why wouldn't he have told Irene Wolfe or Jessica and her sisters?"

"Charlene Daniels told me that Jessica had been investigating something Chambers didn't want her to pursue. She kept pestering him for information, but he wouldn't give it."

"Or maybe he was about to," Ryan postulated. "But somehow Maureen found out and had him killed. It could be that Jonathan Baxley's death supposedly at the hand of Donald Chambers was a way to get Theodore Baxley to do her dirty work for her. Either way, it's motive."

Even though it sounded like something that made sense, Horatio still needed more. There was more to the situation than that. He had a feeling it had something to do with Maureen's daughters. Chambers wouldn't protect Maureen Thomas unless he had a good reason to protect her. He was a man with a good sense of right and wrong.

Before he could express this thought to Calleigh and Ryan, his cell phone rang.

"Horatio Caine," he answered.

"H? It's Eric. I'm at a crime scene. Neighbor just called it in. I've got some bad news and some even worse news."

"What's going on?" Horatio inquired, eyebrows furrowing, as Calleigh and Ryan looked on expectantly.

"They just found Charlene Daniels dead in her bedroom at her apartment," Eric answered. "That's the bad news. The even worse news is that they found Jessica Thomas in her living room with a head injury and the murder weapon."


	20. Tick, Bang, Boom

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

A few minutes later, Ryan was storming through the doors of the waiting room where Jessica's family was waiting on news of Charles Merrell's condition. Everyone who was awake looked up in surprise when he came bursting through.

Gretchen, who had been putting a blanket over her sleeping mother's legs, rose to her feet. "Ryan? What's—?"

"I need statements from all of you," Ryan interrupted. "There's been another murder."

"Another?"

"Who is it this time?" Samantha wanted to know.

"Charlene Daniels," Ryan replied.

"So why do you need statements from us?" Cassandra asked. "None of us has left the hospital." She glanced around, went pale. "Except for Danie…"

Jennifer put a hand to her mouth. "Where's Danie? She left late last night…" Realizing what she was saying, Jennifer's face went ashen. "Oh…no. She may have…"

"She couldn't have," Gretchen insisted. "She wouldn't just kill Charlene Daniels without a good reason—and believe me, she doesn't have one."

"Who wouldn't kill Charlene Daniels?"

Ryan whirled around to find Danie behind him. Her hair was wavy, as if she'd let it dry without blowing it dry, and she was wearing a different shirt from the one she'd been wearing last night.

But the shirt looked very familiar…

"Danie," Ryan started slowly, "where have you been all this time?"

Danie's eyes flashed with anger before she realized that there was a perfectly good reason for Ryan to be asking such a question. With the words on her lips and her mouth poised to speak, she paused. She closed her mouth and her eyebrows came together.

As realization dawned, her jaw slackened, her eyes went wide.

"Oh no. Charlene's…dead isn't she? That's why you're here. And you're wondering, since I wasn't here all night, if I…" As Ryan's eyes sharpened, she shook her head vigorously. "Oh hell no. I didn't lay a hand on her."

"So where were you about midnight last night?"

Danie's cheeks reddened. "I…I was with someone."

Everyone just gazed at her, waiting for elaboration. Feeling the pressure of many pairs of eyes on her back, Danie groaned.

"Aw shit. Alright. Look, I was with Eric. We ended up crashing on his couch."

It was Ryan's turn to be stunned. So that's why that shirt looked familiar… "You slept with Eric last night?"

"Yes." She shook her head. "I mean, no. I mean…we went to sleep on his couch, but we didn't sleep together." She didn't add what happened in the shower that morning. Besides, Ryan asked about _last night_. It wouldn't be lying then, now wouldn't it?

But back to the subject at hand, she mused. Charlene Daniels was dead. Ryan Wolfe wouldn't be here wanting to talk to them unless…

"Ryan, where's Jessica?" Danie asked. "I have a feeling you know, or else you wouldn't be here talking to us." When Ryan didn't answer her immediately, she stepped closer to him, arms crossed over her chest. "Ryan Wolfe, if you don't answer right now, so help me…"

"She's at the police station," Ryan finally said. "She was found at the crime scene along with the murder weapon."

After a short pause, the women were up on their feet, chattering rapidly. Ryan could only watch in confusion as Cassandra, Samantha, Jennifer, Danie, and Gretchen walked past him and out into the hallway.

Alone with the sleeping Irene Wolfe, Ryan exhaled. "This is going to get ugly," he muttered, and went after them.

**_Meanwhile..._**

Horatio allowed for Calleigh to help Eric process the Charlene Daniels crime scene. He wanted to talk to Jessica by himself.

Jessica was in the glass-walled holding cell when he found her. The black pants and shirt from the night before were dusty and spotted with blood. They were also evidence, and Jessica now wore jeans and a white T-shirt. She looked pale, even against the bandage on her forehead. She had her hands on either side of her, reminding Horatio of the first time they'd met, in a hospital room in New York City eighteen years ago.

Horatio entered the holding cell but Jessica didn't look up. He stood there for a long moment before speaking.

"I wish you had listened to me, Jessica," Horatio said. "I didn't ask you to stay just because I could. I did it to prevent this very thing from happening."

"I am not some damsel in distress, Caine," Jessica snapped. "I can handle myself."

"I can see that. Did you handle Charlene Daniels, Jessica?"

Jessica folded her hands in her lap. It was a very diplomatic gesture. "You don't trust me anymore do you?"

Horatio looked at the sunglasses in his hands. "Just tell me what happened, Jessica."

Jessica inhaled, stood, then went to the opposite wall. She didn't speak for a long moment.

"Sit down, Caine," Jessica said softly. Horatio lowered himself to the bench. Jessica began to speak with her back to him.

"I did see Charlene last night, as you have already leaned," Jessica explained. "It occurred to me that she might have some information about Baxley. After all, they were lovers for quite a while. So last night I sat in my car outside her apartment building. She came back around eleven with Harold Gray." Jessica rolled her eyes at the thought of him. "I get out and approach her while Gray's standing there. I suppose he told you that when he talked to you."

"Yes he did," Horatio confirmed. He had spoken to him not long before.

"We go inside, and Charlene's jumpy. Right then and there I know something's up. Charlene's usually as cool as a snake in the dead of winter. She just loves to charm herself out of things with a smile and a bat of an eyelash. She knew she couldn't pull that bullshit with me. She knew what I was there for.

"So, I said, 'Let's get down to it, Daniels. You have information about someone I'm after. And we don't have to say his name, because you're a smart enough girl, right?'"

"And what did she say?"

Jessica said nothing for a minute. Horatio learned only seconds later that it was because it was difficult for her to speak.

"Caine, she told me that Theodore killed Donald Chambers," Jessica replied softly. "She told me that he had it planned for months. He…" She took in a shuddering breath. "He tried to hurt Charles. And he almost murdered Claudia-Michelle." The sobs came out of her, rocking her lithe frame like blows from a sledgehammer. Horatio, understanding her grief, allowed her that moment of misery.

"What else did she tell you, Jessica?" Horatio asked gently.

Jessica quickly got back into control. "I have to go back a few weeks. Two months to be exact. Theodore came to see me." She swallowed the bile that was threatening to rise with visible effort. "He…he wanted to marry Danie. The sonofabitch had the idea that I could sway my sister's opinion on the matter. Charlene said that that was a part of his grand plan."

"Which was?"

"He wanted to merge his father's company with Merrell Enterprises," Jessica answered. "Since his father's death—in his opinion—stunted the growth of the company and made his mother a working woman, he would find a way to make things right. And instead of doing it the right way, he decided that marrying Danie and worming his way inside would suffice. Charlene told me this, and she was smiling all the while. She told me Theodore would make her his mistress if this went in the right direction." The fingers of the right hand, her writing, fighting hand, curled into a fist. "I wanted so badly to hurt her, Caine. But I didn't. I didn't want to be responsible for her downfall." She paused to swallow, hard. "I didn't kill her. I was getting ready to leave when someone knocked me over the head. When I woke up, I was being handcuffed inside of Charlene's living room."

"You did the right thing, Jessica," Horatio assured her. "If you would have hurt her, you would have compromised everything you know. But you understand that I need the evidence to be sure."

"I know. That's why they took my clothes and put me here." Jessica shook her head. "But that's just it. I feel like I got her killed without making the killing blow. That bastard was watching. He knew she told me something so he had to rid himself of her."

"That's speculation, Jessica," Horatio remarked. "So why would he kill Charlene Daniels and not kill you?"

A sardonic smile flirted with the edges of Jessica's mouth. "Two simple reasons. First, he loves the goddamn chase. Second, Charlene was his inside man, so to speak. Betrayal is the bigger of the two evils. And even a third," she added after a moment, "he wants to save killing me for a grand finale."

"What is the grand finale?"

Jessica deflated. "I wish I knew. I guess his plans would be complete with me and Matt dead, right? I mean, after all, in his eyes, I had something to do with his father's death. And so did Matt. Everyone else is dead, and Claudia-Michelle was his way of getting back at Josh."

"Jessica, did Charlene tell you where Theodore was?"

"She told me that he has a getaway house in the Keys. She didn't give an address, though, which is just like her. But I wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't told her anyway. He always says a man is entitled to his own secrets. According to Charlene, of course."

Horatio accepted this and found them correlating with what he knew about Theodore Baxley. Then a question came to mind.

"I have one last question for you, Jessica," Horatio told her. "Did you get this conversation on tape?"

There was a long silence.

Jessica replied, "Yes. I did. But I don't think she knew it."

Shaking his head in amusement, Horatio couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Jessica, you have to be the most thorough woman I have ever met."

"I never leave without proof, Caine." She finally lifted her head, raised red eyes to his. "I suspect you'll have to make sure it's real, and I respect that. But after that, you'd better light a fire under the department's collective ass to catch him."

"Do I have to remind you that is precisely what I do?" Horatio asked.

Jessica shook her head. "No. But I do have to remind you that if you don't, as soon as I'm out of this holding cell, I will."

**_Sometime later..._**

When the remaining members of the Tiger Squad, including Moira-Selene who was on a family-imposed break, arrived at the Miami-Dade Police Department Crime Lab, everyone in the building knew it because they made themselves heard.

Struggling to keep up with them, Ryan demanded calm and patience. They ignored him for the most part and barreled onward.

Having heard the noise, Tripp came to investigate. He found himself toe-to-toe with a seething Daniella Thomas.

"Who the hell are you?" Danie demanded, hands on hips.

"What's it to ya?" Tripp shot back.

"I wanna know where the hell my sister is," Danie snapped. "I figure since you're walking around here with a badge you might know something. Unless that's really made of painted plastic."

"Like hell it's made of plastic," Tripp said angrily.

If it hadn't been for Eric pulling Danie away and outside to cool off, she and Tripp would have embarked on some intense verbal warfare. Seeing that they were robbed of their temporary leader—and the source of their anger, Ryan stepped in-between them and Tripp before any more arguments could start.

"Alright, ladies," Ryan began. "Let's have some order here."

Samantha rolled her eyes. "Order ain't gonna get us anywhere."

"Damn right," Cassandra agreed. "It's obvious this is the hand of Chance Copeland at work. I don't get why Jessica is being held."

"Jessica was found at the crime scene," Ryan reminded her. "We've got to rule out that she didn't kill Charlene Daniels, and that means we've got to detain her."

"Yeah," added Tripp. "And this girly mob nonsense ain't gonna help matters."

The _girly mob_ comment put fire in Samantha's cornflower blue eyes. "Girly mob nonsense?! I'll show you girly mob, you dome-headed, gun-toting Neanderthal…"

It was undetermined whether or not Samantha would have succeeded in her aim to "show" Tripp her definition of a _girly mob_ because at that moment, gunshots rang out in front of the building and everyone either ducked or went running.


End file.
